X-men Supreme: Dark Truths
by MarvelMaster616
Summary: Volume 5 of X-men Supreme. Magneto is gone. Wanda Maximoff rules Genosha and a fragile peace has emerged. The X-men, now working with General Grimshaw and the MSA, do their best to protect that peace. But new threats are emerging and teaming up with old enemies, which will reveal even greater challenges and new revelations that will shake the world of X-men Supreme to its core.
1. Issue 98: Tech Spec Terror

**X-men Supreme Volume 5: Dark Truths**

**Issue #98  
Tech Spec Terror**

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**AN: Another era of X-men Supreme has arrived. This is the fifth, and possibly final, volume in my ongoing X-men Supreme series, which I've dubbed Marvel Universe 1015. This series has progressed a great deal. Now it nears its 100th issue since it began nearly five years ago. A lot has happened with these characters. Some have come. Some have gone. Some have yet to appear. I even had a chance to introduce some of my own characters. But the biggest event of the previous volume was the creation of a new, fragile peace between humans and mutants. Magneto is gone. Wanda Maximoff now rules Genosha. And a treaty is in place trading alien technology for peace. It's a different world and the X-men have to adapt, even as new threats emerge.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own X-men or any of the characters. Marvel and Disney own them. This is pure fan work that fits within the Fair Use clause. Please don't sue.**

_'These mean thoughts or psychic communication.'_

**As always, I urge everyone to take the time to leave reviews. I've noticed a slight downward trend of feedback as this series has unfolded. I hope to change that with this Volume. I'm still not decided on whether I will continue X-men Supreme after this volume. A lot of that depends on the feedback I get and the circumstances I'm dealing with once this volume is complete. But please note that I appreciate all forms of feedback and I go out of my way to respond to ievery bit I get. So please send your reviews to me via email, post it on the fanfiction website, or post it on my X-men Supreme website. The link is on my profile. Either way is fine. Now without further ado, I give you X-men Supreme Volume 5: Dark Truths. Excelsior!**

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_A major shift has occurred in human/mutant relations. The chaos wrought by Magneto has settled and a new peace has been forged. The world has entered a new era and Professor Charles Xavier and his X-men remain on the front lines, fighting for peace and understanding in a world that hates and fears them._

_The treaty that created this peace has led to rapid progress over the past six months. At the heart of this progress is the alien technology that Magneto extracted from a crashed alien ship. This technology has flooded the market, opening all sorts of possibilities and creating a vital trade link with Genosha. This link that has become the key incentive towards maintaining peace and has led to a boom in the economy like no other. This has caused a dramatic re-assessment of the human/mutant conflict, but problems still remain._

_While there are anti-mutant forces still active, the X-men now have help through an uneasy partnership with General Nathan Grimshaw's Mutant Security Agency. However, the treaty has brought unexpected consequences that the MSA has had to deal with. Whereas one conflict has ended, a whole new host of conflicts is set to begin._

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**White House – Oval Office**

President Robert Kelly was in a good mood for a man with one of the toughest jobs in the world. There were only a handful of times when the President of the United States could sit back and enjoy the good times. Since his first day in office, it was just one conflict after another. Few of those conflicts ever resulting anything positive, but that was before this unprecedented treaty with Genosha.

Over the past six months, this treaty had become the new foundation for human/mutant relations. Both sides benefited in many ways. Genosha regained much of its sovereignty, save for one sizable military base on the south end of the island. The rest of the world got to enjoy the fruits of Genoshan technology that had been hidden and guarded for centuries. It delivered a much needed jolt to the world economy and a robust economy often had a way of stabilizing the political climate.

"Moving on, we'll touch on your new favorite issue, Mr. President. I won't bore you with the details so I'll skip to the numbers," said General Nathan Grimshaw, who was standing across from the President's desk along with Charles Xavier.

"I need more than numbers, General Grimshaw. Give me the big picture," said President Kelly as he sat comfortably in his chair.

"In short, your approval rating is at record levels. The latest numbers have you at 63 percent approval. That's even factoring in people registered in the other party."

"So even the ones that actively campaign against me think I'm doing a good job? That's a pretty rosy picture if ever there was one," he said with a grin.

"It gets better," said General Grimshaw, "According to the World Bank, the influx of Genoshan technology has caused an economic boom that makes the roaring twenties look like whisper. The numbers across the board are breaking every previous record by a huge margin. The DOW Jones Average, the S&P, and even the international exchanges are shooting up higher than the speculators can keep up with."

"So the money is outpacing the people trying to get it. That's a first," said President Kelly in a humored tone.

"It's not just the boys on Wall Street either. This economic boom has sent unemployment to its lowest level in 48 years. I don't think I need to tell you what that's done for tax revenue."

"I'm sure I can expect a fruit basket from the Budget Office and Goldman Sachs by the end of the year."

"It goes without saying that a record economy does everybody some good. That goes for human/mutant relations as well," said Charles Xavier, "An influx of prosperity along with the highly publicized nature of the Genosha deal has done much to reverse the anti-mutant sentiment that developed after the Cambrian incident."

"I'm not the telepath, but I sense a 'but' coming," said the President.

"I would call it an 'aside.' While the General and I welcome these latest developments, we do some logistical concerns about how the Mutant Security Agency has evolved since its inception."

It was a perfect way to shake President Kelly from his good mood. He expected as such whenever he had these private meetings. They took place every week since the deal with Genosha was finalized. They were his official insight into human/mutant issues and the extent of this emerging status quo. Usually, only General Grimshaw and a few advisers took part in these meetings. Today, Charles Xavier made a rare visit.

He was still a controversial figure and it wasn't just because he was the world's most powerful telepath. Even when things were going well for human/mutant relations, he always found some pressing issue that couldn't be ignored.

"I thought this issue had been addressed, Xavier. My administration has kept you in the loop through this whole process," President Kelly reminded him, "Considering our less-than-friendly history, that alone is an accomplishment."

"I know and I appreciate your efforts in that respect. But while the technology from Genosha has been a benefit to many, managing it has become an increasingly difficult task. I don't think I need to tell you how dangerous some of this technology could be in the wrong hands. It has already led to a new black market for terrorists, rogue nations, and drug cartels."

"I'm well aware of the danger. The Joint Chiefs have already given me a long list of problems this new tech has caused, but that's exactly why we're going to great lengths to ensure these resources end up in the right hands. We treat this tech the same way we treat weapons grade plutonium."

"Your dedication to security is not in question, Mr. President. It's the unintended consequences that worry me," said Professor Xavier, "It has already led to a greater expansion of the Mutant Security Agency than was laid out in General Grimshaw's proposal. It has also required that my X-men divert a sizable portion of our time and energy into policing these matters."

"Why is that a concern? Are your X-men not capable of handling it?" Kelly suggested.

"They can handle it fine," he said confidently, "What I'm less certain about is the way you have them working alongside the MSA. Sometimes I get the impression that your people are seeing the X-men as tools rather than allies."

"You make it sound as though we're using them as puppets, Xavier," the President scoffed.

"I never said that, Mr. President. I only meant to…"

The President quickly silenced him. Even if this man was the world's most powerful telepath, he was not the elected leader of the United States of America.

"That's enough, Professor," he said strongly, "I know your X-men have a proud history of playing hero, but this is a different game with a different set of rules. And since you agreed to be part of this process, you have to play by those rules. Now if you don't like them, that's fine. But if you don't abide by them, then don't expect us to keep you in the loop."

"Mr. President, if I may…" began General Grimshaw.

"This goes double for you, General. The MSA has expanded out of necessity and is already the fasted growing agency in government. In just a few months' time, we have a department in every state with no fewer than three divisions. It's been so successful that other countries like Britain, Germany, and Japan have adopted it. The purpose is still focused on policing mutants. Now that we have this technology, their role will continue to expand as needed. You can either keep up or be left behind. But bear this in mind…now that we have the economy is part of the equation, there's no going back."

Professor Xavier had nothing with which to respond. He couldn't expected any special favors for his X-men, even though they saved him and his family on more than one occasion. Now that money was involved and his approval was so highly driven by this economic prosperity, there were significant incentives to continue with the current way of doing things. That meant he and his X-men were stuck in their current role for the time being.

"If you have no response, I assume I've made my position sufficiently clear," President Kelly stated.

"You have, Mr. President," said the Professor flatly, "In that case I believe this meeting is finished."

"Yes, I've nothing further to add," said General Grimshaw.

"Good, then I trust we won't have to discuss this again. This is still my presidency. If one of us fails, it's going to have my name on it. So expect a little extra scrutiny on my part. If possible, take comfort in the knowledge that I have as much to lose as you do in this deal."

Professor Xavier nodded while General Grimshaw gave his formal salute. They exited the Oval Office together with mixed feelings. President Kelly seemed pleased with the current state of affairs, but he didn't seem overly concerned with the complications associated with it.

While it was true that his name was attached to the Genosha treaty, it was General Grimshaw and Charles Xavier that were making it work. The treaty had its share of challenges to say the least. Getting it legally approved on an international level was hard enough. Delivering the goods was another matter altogether.

In order to maintain leverage, Wanda Maximoff made it so Genosha had near monopoly on the vital components that drove this technology such as the power cells, the advanced materials, and the know-how to work them. Creating these components with Warlock cost next to nothing. Getting it to the markets without someone trying to steal or disrupt it was the real challenge.

The MSA and the X-men were on the front lines of this challenge. General Grimshaw utilized his military ties to protect the shipments while the growing ranks of the MSA ran the nuts and bolts of the operation. The X-men were basically the cavalry and were expected to be on call for any number of situations. It forced both men to change their way of doing things. Naturally, this came with some reservations and Professor Xavier voiced some of those reservations via telepathy.

'_I hope you don't mind, but I would rather not say out loud how unsatisfied I am with the President's answer.'_

'_No need to apologize, Xavier. I wouldn't keep my mind this open if I didn't have thoughts I was willing to share.'_

'_I understand the pressure President Kelly faces now that he has an economic boom to sustain. What I don't understand is how he can expect my X-men to share that pressure and continue to pursue our main mission.'_

'_Ideally, my MSA should be able to take on these responsibilities as we get better at what we do. Then we won't need to keep calling your X-men whenever the going gets tough.'_

'_And are you confident you can make your organization work without it overstepping the bounds you said you wouldn't cross?'_

'_So long as your X-men, and the rest of the mutant race, don't give me a reason to, it shouldn't be a problem. But before I shut my mind off, let me echo one of the points the President made. This treaty depends on mutants being willing to cooperate and respect the law. As soon as that cooperation ends, expect those lines to get real blurry.'_

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**Port of Calcutta – India**

"Falcon one! Falcon one! This is Bravo Three, do you copy? Hello? Do you copy?"

A lone man ran desperately through the corridors of the fully stocked cargo ship aptly named the SS Big Bertha. It was one of the largest commercial cargo ships sailing the seas. When fully stocked, it could haul enough cargo to support a small city for weeks. Yet it was just one small portion of the cargo that attracted some unwanted attention.

This large ship had the dubious duty of making a pit stop on Genosha to pick up a fresh load of Genoshan hardware. As a result, the main crew yielded authority to a special team of international officers, sponsored primarily by the Mutant Security Agency. They were equipped with all the standard armaments that were supposed to help them deal with any kind of threat, mutant or otherwise. In the span of an hour, that false sense of security was completely shattered.

"Falcon one! Are you there?"

"_Bravo Three…code omega…in black suit…has the-AHHHHHHHHH!"_

The communicator went dead in a burst of static, offering an ominous clue as to what happened.

"Falcon one! Are you there? Falcon one! Is _anybody_ out there?!" he yelled desperately.

His hopes for reinforcements were crushed. That was the last of his support team. As soon as the ship docked, they were supposed to check in and prepare to offload the precious cargo from Genosha. Around that time, every hand on the ship started disappearing. It was no haunting or Bermuda Triangle crap either. Gunshots were fired. Dead and injured bodies were showing up everywhere. One-by-one, the crew and the officers were taken down and nobody had a clue who was behind it.

The lone officer had run out of options. He was stuck on the third sub-level below the main deck. Getting out of this alive involved navigating through a maze of corridors and stairs with some killer on the loose.

"Damn it!" he cursed as he threw the communicator against the wall, "They don't train us enough for this shit."

Frozen in place, the officer held his special MK-19 in a firing position and swiftly made his way towards the stairs. His legs trembled as he stood ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

All seemed quiet. There was nothing in front of him or behind him. He kept moving at a brisk pace until he reached a junction near heart of the ship. As soon as he entered the hall, he scanned in the direction he was planning to take. It seemed clear. He then checked behind him and that's when he came face to face with the source of this madness.

"Oh hell…" he lamented.

Standing before him was a tall, masculine figure that seemed almost robotic in his demeanor. He wore a tan camouflage pants, a dark green jacket with a bullet-proof vest, and a black mask with goggles that completely covered his face. He looked like one of those paramilitary soldiers, but there was something disturbingly off about him. Behind him were two large handheld crates about the size of large toolboxes that had special stickers on them. They were plundered from the precious cargo they picked up from Genosha, making it all too clear as to what this was about.

With mechanical-like gestures, the figure slammed his fists against a nearby wall. Upon doing so, his entire arm became engulfed in a strange pinkish energy. It indicated some kind of mutant abilities and the officer was not looking to find out what it entailed.

"Why can't you people wait in line for this shit like everybody else?" groaned the officer as he took aim with his gun.

The figure shot forth with an inhuman burst of speed, managing to slip out of the officer's line of sight as he fired three shots with his high powered rifle. Before he could even adjust his aim, the figure slammed his glowing fist against the weapon. In an instant, it shattered like glass. With his hand still glowing, he slugged the officer with a punishing haymaker.

"Aagh!" he cried out.

The man was knocked clear to the other end of the corridor, landing with a hard thud against the opposing wall. The blow wasn't fatal, but the injuries were mortal. This effectively rendered the ship's crew and security fully neutralized.

The mysterious figure, who hadn't broken a sweat, returned to his robotic state. Now able to move freely within the ship, he received an encrypted message through a special earpiece to communicate with his superiors.

"_Agent Zero, report on the obstructions."_

"All clear," he said flatly.

"_Good, then proceed with the next phase of your mission. You're to load six boxes of the Genosha shipment onto one of the emergency rafts. Get everything to the deck, load up the cargo, and rendezvous with your contact down south. We have a jet waiting for you. Work quickly. We just picked up some chatter and MSA backup is already en route."_

"Understood."

The operative known as Agent Zero went to work, turning his attention back to the two bulky cases he had been carrying. Now that he had no more obstacles in his way, these cases were the focus of his mission. They contained the advanced power cells that only Genosha could manufacture and that major companies paid top dollar to secure. The only tragedy here was that neither he nor anyone else was going to see a dime of that money.

Leaving both cases where they stood, he started making way back towards the secure holding area where more of these crates were stored. It would likely take a few trips to get the six his superiors desired. He had to remain on guard every step of the way. There was no telling when MSA backup would catch up with him.

That moment came a lot sooner than he expected because before he could even reach the stairs, a deafening bang ripped through the ceiling over the corridor just a few feet in front of him.

"We found him," said the authoritative tone of Cyclops.

"Told you I could handle his mental shields," said a confident Psylocke, who was staring down through the gaping hole with Gambit and Colossus by her side.

When Agent Zero looked up, he knew he was in trouble. These new obstacles weren't the MSA's backup. These were the X-men. He had been warned about them and they promised to make his mission infinitely more complicated.

Zero pulled out his two 45 caliber pistols and started shooting through the hole in the ceiling. This forced Cyclops and Psylocke to duck out of the way. Colossus then used his metal form body as a shield.

"Stand behind me, comrades. Our nemesis is well-armed," said Colossus as his metal body absorbed and deflected the stream of bullets.

"Armed enough to take out this whole dang ship?" questioned Gambit.

"They called us for backup, didn't they? I think that goes without saying, luv," said Psylocke.

Zero's shooting held the X-men back just long enough for him to grab the two cases and make a break for it. Since the path to the cargo hold now had the X-men in front of him, his only choice was to head to the surface and make his escape. As much as his superiors wanted this cargo, they also stipulated that he was not to be taken under any circumstances. That meant these two crates would have to suffice.

As soon as the shooting stopped, Cyclops jumped down through the hole and into the corridor. Colossus followed him and remained in front, using his metal form as a shield in case their adversary got trigger-happy again.

"He's heading for the deck," said the X-leader, "Psylocke, you and Gambit get there first while Colossus and I try to take him out."

"You expect this half-rate pirate to try and swim for it?" said Gambit skeptically.

"Given how valuable this stuff is, he just might."

The four X-men split off to implement Cyclops's tactic. The masked assailant moved a lot faster than they expected. They clearly weren't dealing with a typical pirate. If Psylocke's earlier telepathic sleuthing was any indication, they were dealing with a well-trained mutant.

Running at full speed, Agent Zero scaled a flight of stairs to get to the next level. Along the way Cyclops fired an optic blast that grazed his shoulder, causing him to stumble. This gave the two X-men valuable time to close the distance between them. They were now close enough for Cyclops to get off a more accurate shot and with Colossus in front of him, shooting back was just a waste of bullets. Zero's only option was to use his powers again. As soon as he made it up the steps he slammed his hand against the wall, causing it to glow again.

"You can make this easy on yourself. We just want to talk," Cyclops shouted.

"Do not waste your breath, comrade. I know his type. They do _not _talk," said Colossus.

The Russian mutant would know. He had heard of this man during his days in the Russian Mob. That was why the MSA called the X-men in. Rumors of the very dangerous and very skilled Agent Zero had come in through Interpol and the Pakistani secret police. He had been more active than usual lately and that was rarely a good thing. Zero was a bit of a mystery, but he did not come cheap. His unique skills, which were widely believed to be mutant in nature, made him perfect for high risk missions such as this.

They followed their target through the next round of corridors. This time the stairs were much closer. Standing just below the deck, he was close to completing his escape. Along the way he kept banging his fist against the wall, building up more energy so that his hand was charged with even more power. It got so intense that it turned dark red.

"Watch out, Colossus. I doubt he's just showing off," said Cyclops as they closed in.

"I can take it, Cyclops," said Colossus confidently, still running full speed.

Agent Zero stopped at the base of the stairs. At first he raised his glowing arm and pointed it right at Colossus, who had every intention of absorbing Zero's shot. He seemed pretty tough, but Zero was in no mood to test that confidence.

Instead of firing at the charging mutant, he diverted his shot up above towards the ceiling. Taking a play right out of the X-men's tactics, he unleashed the power he had absorbed. A bright red bolt shot out form his hand, causing a similar level of damage that Cyclops's optic blast had inflicted earlier. In addition, Zero hit a series of pipes, causing a burst of steam to fill the corridors along with a chunk of debris from the floor above. It was so cluttered and destructive that it stopped the two X-men dead in their tracks.

"Chert poberi!" cursed Colossus in his native Russian.

"Copycat," grunted Cyclops, "Guess we'll have to circle around. It's up to Psylocke and Gambit now."

The two X-men got moving again while Agent Zero scaled the stairs and burst out onto the deck. It was big and crowded with containers, but the cool breeze of the crisp night air was a sign that he was close to making his escape with two cases of the product still in hand.

He ran full speed through the maze of containers, making his way towards the starboard side of the ship that ran parallel to the water. This was where he had been instructed to climb aboard a raft and get out to sea before the authorities came after him. He was almost home free. There was already a large inflatable raft near the edge of the rail. The only problem was that he wasn't the first one that found it.

"Took you long enough," said Psylocke dryly as she casually stood over the raft.

"Thinkin' this be your ticket outta here, homme?" said Gambit, tapping the raft with his bow staff, "Next time, take the bus."

With just one finger, Gambit effectively ruined the escape plan. He touched the inflated raft, using his powers to charge it up with explosive energy. As soon as it started glowing, he and Psylocke jumped behind it and, with their collective strength, kicked it right at him.

Agent Zero turned around and ran full sprint back in the direction he came. The glowing raft came within just a few feet of him before exploding. When it did, it unleashed a potent blast that illuminated the cloudy night and sent him crashing against a nearby crate.

"Ain't nowhere left to run," said Gambit, "You gonna cut the voodoo and save yourself the pain?"

Zero responded by pulling out one of his guns and firing right towards the Cajun. He and Psylocke ducked behind a nearby crate for cover. He may have been low on options, but the man still had guts.

"Why does Remy bother asking?" he said as the pullets flew by him.

"This bloke doesn't say much. I can't imagine who hired him for a stunt like this," grunted Psylocke as she formed some psionic blades in preparation for an attack.

"These days, could be anybody. This here tech be attracting every kind of thug from every kind of hell."

"Good thing they aren't as smart as they are dangerous."

With Zero still backed up against the crate, Gambit and Psylocke needed only to wait. He was bound to run out of bullets at some point and reinforcements were already close by. From the same stairs Zero had walked up earlier, Cyclops and Colossus emerged. When Zero saw this, his options quickly narrowed even further.

"There he is!" Colossus yelled out.

"We've got him now. Let's box him in!" said Cyclops, following close behind.

Zero put away his gun and went back to running. He cut through a few lines of crates, buying precious seconds and avoiding another optic blast from Cyclops. He made his way towards the other side of the ship, which was running parallel along the dock. If he couldn't make an escape by sea, he would have to take his chances on land.

By the time the other side of the ship came into view, Psylocke and Gambit were closing in. Gambit charged a couple of playing cards and aimed for his feet to trip him up. He missed on both shots, but it caused him to stumble. Psylocke tried to take him out with a well-aimed psionic blade. She tried aiming for his legs where there wasn't any body armor. She missed her first shot, but by the time she was ready for the second, the assailant had run out of room.

Now standing over the rail of the massive ship, Zero looked down to see he had quite a fall before him. As he took in his situation, Gambit and Psylocke arrived along with Cyclops and Colossus. Now they had him completely surrounded. There was no way out.

"Nowhere left to run and no more ceilings to shoot," said Cyclops, his hand menacingly gripping his visor.

"Are you going to quit while you're behind? Or are you going to keep up the silent treatment and do something outrageously stupid?" said Psylocke.

Zero looked at the X-men and then over the rail. The choice was a lot easier than she made it out to be.

Without hesitation, the masked figure jumped over the side of the ship and plummeted towards the hard pavement below. The four X-men rushed towards his position, not allowing him to escape their sights.

"Are we to be surprised?" said Colossus.

"Not as much as we should, Peter," said Cyclops in a bemused tone.

"So are we gonna go after this rat or what?" said Gambit, who still several charged cards in hand.

"We don't have to, luv," grinned Psylocke, who had already picked up up on a few welcome telepathic signatures.

The four X-men stood over the deck and watched Agent Zero plummit to the ground below. There was no chance this was some suicide tactic or desperation move. Based on the power he demonstrated earlier, they assumed he had a few more tricks up his sleeve. However, he wasn't the only one.

When Agent Zero struck the hard pavement, rather than become a mangled corpse, he absorbed the energy of the impact. It caused his whole body to glow bright red and left a sizable indent in the concrete. It was a lot of energy and should have equipped him for his escape into the city of Calcutta. However, his glowing form revealed something else that he didn't expect.

"Hands in the air, Tinkerbell. That's more than enough pixie dust for one night," said the caustic voice of Captain Jack Freeman.

Suddenly, facing the X-men didn't seem as daunting. His glowing form revealed that the MSA backup his superior mentioned had arrived. All over the port, there were dozens of well-armed, well-equipped officers from the Indian branch of the MSA. They bore the distinct uniforms that had become so recognizable all over the world. They were dark green with shades of blue around the shoulders and arms. All were heavily armed, sporting more advanced weapons than the officers on the ship. At every angle surrounding Zero's position, he faced a dead end with a gun pointed at him. The success of the mission was now question.

Captain Freeman, who was wearing a special uniform that bore the emblems of the Green Berets, stepped forward to confront Agent Zero. Psylocke's telepathic insight worked to perfection. Their coordination with the X-men allowed them to box in this latest attempt at high tech piracy. It was a game he and the MSA had been playing for a while now and while their record was not perfect, it was still playoff caliber so to speak.

"Agent Zero, is it? Interpol has had you in their top ten most wanted list six years running. I can see why," said Captain Freeman as he fearlessly approached.

Agent Zero stayed silent, clinging to the two cases and remaining still as a statue.

"I know you don't say much so I'll get to the point," Freeman continued, "None of these guys have any problem with shooting you, but we're not hit men. We're the MSA. We're sick of this tech being on every greedy bastard's Christmas list. We're more than willing to make deals if it will keep this tech flowing to the people who actually make useful shit out of it. Long story short, if you come with us, we might be able to work something out."

It was a standard speech that Jack Freeman rarely said with much enthusiasm. He was more soldier than police officer. But as General Grimshaw's most trusted subordinate, he was required to be political at times.

"So what's it going to be, Zero? Your move," said the Green Beret menacingly.

Agent Zero stared down Captain Freeman. Then he looked over the vast contingent of Indian MSA officers before him. Then he looked up at the X-men, who were still watching from the cargo ship. He had no way out. If he was to escape, it was going to cost him something. Looking down at the two cases he was carrying, he saw only once chance. His superiors probably weren't going to like this. However, they would like it even less if he got caught or came back empty handed. This forced him to make a fateful decision.

With his body still glowing with energy, Agent Zero made his move. Taking one of the cases, he threw it up into the air as hard as he could. Then with all the energy he had absorbed, he unleashed it in a concentrated burst. When that blast hit the case head on, the reaction was immediate.

"GET DOWN!" ordered Captain Freeman.

Everyone in the area took cover. A blinding explosion then erupted over the entire port. It was so powerful that Captain Freeman had to use his powers to change his body in a way that would allow him to survive a shockwave that would have otherwise left him mortally wounded.

The power of the explosion ripped through the port, damaging machines and even causing the cargo ship to rock. It left both the MSA and the X-men blinded and stunned. It was all over within the span of five seconds. That was all the time Agent Zero needed because by the time the air cleared, he was gone.

"I've lost visual," groaned one of the MSA officers.

"Figures," muttered Captain Freeman, the shock wearing off for him before anyone else.

The Green Beret braved the lingering heat and fires to investigate the area where Zero had been standing. A quick survey revealed little trace. Then he looked into the narrow waters between the ship and the port. He noticed some bubbles coming up, giving away what Zero had done. Between the murky waters and having no idea of what direction he was heading, Agent Zero may as well have vanished.

"So much for picking up souvenirs on my trip to India. The General will be as disappointed as he will unsurprised," he sighed.

"Sir! Can you track the target?" asked one of the Indian MSA officers.

"Don't bother. If you bothered to read Zero's file, you would know he's long gone by now," said the Captain.

"Shouldn't we still pursue?"

"We have other priorities," he said, looking up at the ship, "The main objective is securing that cargo everybody seems to love. If the President and all those tech lobbyists in Congress are to sleep easier, we need to guard the rest of the shipment."

The rest of the MSA squad was disappointed. Nobody enjoyed seeing a dangerous target get away, especially after he did so much damage. It was usually a guarantee that they would have to confront him or someone like him again in the near future. Such was the price of shifting priorities. As long as this technology remained vital to peace and prosperity, it was up to them to protect it.

Before Captain Freeman began re-orienting his troops, he looked up towards the cargo ship where the X-men were standing. There were still some mixed feelings between them. He still didn't like how the X-men operated and he liked even less how they often influenced MSA missions. However, he had come to respect them a bit more these past six months. They showed they were more than capable allies. Hopefully, that was all they would need to be.

Up on the cargo ship, Cyclops and the other X-men acknowledged Captain Freeman's gesture. He still wasn't very friendly with them, even when they helped out on operations like this. But the X-men came to expect that. It was just one of the many complications they had to deal with it during these turbulent times.

"Well this trip turned out to be a bust," said Gambit.

"I wouldn't say it is a complete failure, comrade. We did stop him from stealing more than two cases of Genosha technology," said Colossus, trying to somewhat optimistic.

"Given how valuable those things are, two is still enough to make some people cry bullocks," added Psylocke.

"Plus, that Zero fella got away. If Wolverine be here, he'd have dived right in after him," said Gambit.

"Wolverine's mission capabilities have been hit or miss the past few months. But lately, they've been mostly misses," said Cyclops bitterly.

"The extra drinking isn't helping much either," added Psylocke.

"Is he still that hung up on what happened with Storm?" asked Colossus.

"Among a _long_ list of other issues," the X-leader sighed.

It was a sore subject. While the X-men were moving forward with these new missions, Wolverine was falling behind. He kept on fighting his own personal battles in ways that really hurt his performance with the team. Some battles stemmed from his breakup with Storm. Others stemmed from some incident with this teenage girl with claws he met in New York a while back. But for the most part, Wolverine just kept fighting for the sake of fighting, leaving him so jaded that he was even more unpleasant to deal with than before.

Cyclops tried to work around it. He entrusted Jean to babysit him when necessary and bust his balls when he needed it. She was one of the he didn't throw empty whiskey bottles at when someone tried to talk to him. The jury was still out on how Wolverine was going to pull himself together. He would have to because there was no shortage of treats wanting to disrupt this fragile peace they had created with Genosha.

The technology they were selling now drove the economy and made human/mutant peace very profitable. As such, the X-men were expected to help maintain that peace by working closely with the MSA. It often clashed with the usual heroics the X-men were accustomed to doing. However, there wasn't much room for alternatives.

"Regardless of what Wolverine would have done, I think it's safe to say that nobody won today," stated Cyclops, "Zero didn't get what he wanted and the MSA has a ship of dead and wounded bodies to clean up. This marks the third incident this month that we've had to back them up because of someone trying to steal this hardware."

"I had it at four. Or did that incident with those Fenris people in South America not count?" asked Colossus.

"For the sake of argument, let's just assume it's three," said the X-leader, "I'm more worried about the bigger picture. REgardless of how many incidents we end up dealing with, this is a disturbing trend."

"But we ain't gonna to change it, are we?" said Gambit, still bearing a pessimistic look.

"Bloody Hell, Remy, enough with the attitude," groaned Psylocke, "As your girlfriend, I'm inclined to knock some sense into you. Unless, of course, you plan on going on more lunch-dates with Rogue and letting her have the honor."

"Please don't start with that, cherè," said Gambit defensively.

"Why not? It's made for less than ideal teamwork and that includes the bedroom."

Now it was getting personal. This was neither the time nor the place for this debate. Gambit and Psylocke had been having a number of heated debates lately, most of which involved affairs outside their X-men duties, and Cyclops wasn't about to let it continue so he intervened.

"Easy Psylocke. Not to take sides here, but this sort of thing is best handled in a bedroom or with one of you sleeping on the couch," he said.

"Any guess as to who that will be?" scoffed Psylocke, which earned her a glare from Gambit.

"But getting back to the matter at hand, I think we should see this mission as a sign of things to come. As long as this tech keeps the peace, we have to keep dealing with it. At some point, we're going to stretch ourselves too thin and we need to be more willing to adapt. I'm just hoping someone will find a better way at some point."

"Me too, Cyclops," sighed Colossus, "Otherwise I may prefer Wolverine's hangovers."

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Logan's Room**

"Unngghhh…"

A single groan in the light of the morning sun hardly did justice to this kind of agony. Everything was spinning. Nothing was coherent. This was the kind of hangover that even a healing factor had hard time with. Only a truly tormented soul could ever stoop this low.

If ever there was a standard for such a soul, Logan had already exceeded it. His entire world was a case study in torment. He broke up with Storm, a beautiful woman who loved him for all the right reasons and went out of her way to share that love with him. He found out he killed yet another woman he loved in Mariko Yashida, which consequently made her adopted sister, Yurkio, dedicate her life to killing him. Then there were these these strange encounters with Mystique that he kept having, each one making him feel things that didn't make sense.

On top of it all, there was a teenage girl running around with metal claws, a healing factor, and the mental scars of Weapon X. When he put it all together, it created a complicated web of torment that gave him plenty of reasons to drink. Lately, he had been doing more than his share. It affected his X-men duties, his demeanor, and his already precarious mental state.

'_Damn…it happened again. Must've gotten shot in the head…again.'_

He had long forgotten the circumstances that led him to this latest hangover. At the moment, his primary concern was figuring out his immediate surroundings. He sensed it was early morning. He sensed he was in his own bed. He also sensed someone else was in there with him and not smelling half a bad as he did. It was almost too painful to open his eyes. When he did, he saw a very irritated Jean Grey sitting next to him with a glass of water in one hand and some pills in the other.

"Morning sunshine," she greeted, "Have fun last night?"

"Hnn…had a blast," he muttered, "You couldn't close the damn curtains?"

"You're lucky I'm not yelling at you through a bull-horn, Logan," she retorted strongly, "You look terrible. You smell like an bad mix of vodka, tequila, and gasoline. There are stains on your shirt that I don't even want to _begin _to identify. Your motorcycle is somehow parked next to the pool out back. And oh yeah…you passed out on top of the _stove_ last night."

"The stove? That's a new one," muttered the feral mutant.

"You're lucky I was in a good mood. I had to telekinetically lug your drunken ass up here and lay you on your side so you wouldn't choke on your own vomit. I can't tell you how tempted I was to leave you to roast."

"Since you're my ex and I've seen you naked, I won't take that too personally."

"Shut up and take the damn aspirin," said Jean as she literally shoved the pills and water into his hands, "You might as well sober up before the Professor gets back from DC."

Logan grumbled a string of curses under his ragged breath. Jean continued to scorn him even as he took the pills and gulped down the water. It was a look she was tired of giving him.

She felt like a beleaguered parent trying to manage a rebellious child. But this child drank heavily and got into bar fights that sometimes required a hefty check for assorted property damage. It was not a role she enjoyed playing. It was hard enough being Logan's ex-lover and one of the few close friends he hadn't completely alienated. Watching him self-destruct like this over the past few months was as tragic as it was agonizing.

"This has to stop, Logan," she said in a more caring tone, "A bender every other week is excessive enough. Now it's gotten to the point where managing your superhuman alcoholism is like my own little side-mission. Are you really this determined to destroy yourself?"

"I'm a supremely fucked up guy who can take a lot of punishment. You really don't have to care, Jeannie," said Logan as he now sat hunched over the side of his bed.

"But I _do_ care, Logan. I can't stop caring. I don't want to stop either. I understand you're a tormented soul, but I also understand that you're a fighter and you've always found the strength to fight back. It's part of what gives you that big heart you always deny having."

"Too bad it ain't as big as my liver," grumbled Logan.

"It may not matter how strong your liver is in the long run if you keep this up," said Jean in an almost desperate tone, "It literally _pains _me to see you like this, Logan. All the progress you've made with the X-men… it's like you don't even care anymore. Are you really that willing to throw it all away?"

Logan closed his eyes and rubbed his throbbing head. He could still feel Jean's worried eyes on him. He could even smell the tears forming in her eyes. If he looked at her, it would only make a bad hangover even worse. It didn't always bother him when he disappointed himself, but it definitely bothered him when he disappointed someone like Jean Grey.

"Logan please…talk to me," she said, placing her tender hand on his shoulder, "What keeps driving you to do this? Is it because the Professor isn't letting you take part in missions anymore? You know you can easily earn that role back if you participated in more training."

"If it were that simple, don't you think I would have done it by now?" grunted the former living weapon.

"Then what is it? Are you still hung up on your breakup with Miss Munroe? Does it have to do with the whole Yashida affair? Or the fact that Deathstrike is still trying to kill you? What that other girl with claws you found? Or that whole Mystique thing you told me about?"

"Hell if I know. Take your pick," he muttered.

"Logan!" she shouted in a fit of frustration.

"What do you want from me, Jeannie? A single reason that you can go out and tidy up before my next hangover? It ain't that simple."

"And somehow that requires drinking yourself into oblivion?"

"Does it even matter?"

"Since I'm the one stuck babying you, I'd sure say so!"

Her harsh tone reverberated in his head as if someone was shooting cannons off between his ears. There was no use arguing with Jean Grey. She knew him better than he knew himself in many respects. A lot of his friends in the X-men seemed to have that talent. That said a lot about just how much or how little he knew himself.

A brief silence fell over them and Jean's gestures became more caring. She sat down next to him on his bed, her hand still on his shoulder.

"Let's not turn this into an argument, Logan," she said softly.

"I ain't trying to. But like everything else I've tried lately, I fail. Mystique…Yurkio…Ro…all that shit you listed were failures. They prove that for everything I've accomplished with the X-men, I'm still a monster."

"That's not true, Logan. You _know_ it's not," said Jean firmly.

"Maybe it ain't for the whole Weapon X side of it. That's not what drives the drinking…not entirely anyways," he said in a low tone, "Since I joined the X-men, I've found out that the man I was ain't much better than the weapon. First, I found out about Rose. You would think I learned my lesson after that. Then Yurkio spills the beans about Mariko and I find out I fucked up again in the same damn way."

"Neither one of those was entirely your fault, Logan," Jean pointed out.

"It doesn't matter, damn it! Their blood is still on my claws. Even when I don't end up killing people, I still hurt them. Ororo loved me in a way I didn't deserve. She loved me after I freakin' kissed Mystique for reasons I still ain't clear on. I wanted to love her too. But I just…couldn't. I failed again."

"It's never a failure to love someone. It's not something you can force either. We both know that first hand."

"It goes beyond love, Jeannie," said the feral mutant, "Lately, I've been thinkin' back to all the shit I've found out about myself from assholes like Wraith, Cornelius, Sinister, Omega Red, and even Deadpool. Even when I try to make up for my failures, I find new ways to fuck everything up."

Logan stopped rubbing his head and just kept staring down at the floor, lost in his sorrows. Jean kept trying to console him, but it was no use. There was no bringing him up from this alcohol induced stupor.

"It's like something's missing that I ain't found yet…something I know is there, but I just can't grasp. It's like losing Rose started some crazy cycle that I can't escape. Even when I do, it's always too late and I'm right back where I started. And anyone who gets involved along the way ends up suffering. Seems like just a matter of time before it catches up with the X-men."

"Do you really think we're that inept?" said Jean, "The X-men are strong. Or did we not prove that enough by fighting cosmic forces, killer robots, and ancient globs of promordial sludge?"

"Doesn't mean it's enough," he said, "Far as I'm concerned, the more Chuck keeps me outta the loop, the better off everyone will be."

Jean glared at her former lover with a mix of compassion and frustration. Logan had come so far since he first joined the team. Now he seemed to be regressing. He wasn't pushing himself to rise above the failures of his past. He was on the verge of giving up, something she never expected from this man that she once called her lover. With so much conflict surrounding the X-men, that was a tough pill to swallow.

Yet she chose not to belabor her sentiment. Yelling at Logan was as pointless as trying to prevent him from drinking. She offered him one more comforting gesture before rising up from his bed and leaving him to sulk.

"If that's the attitude you're going to have, then I've nothing left to say to you. When you're ready to talk, I'll still be here," she told him, "But if you remember anything from this latest hangover, remember this…if you stop fighting because you accept it's doomed for failure, then maybe you're not as strong as I thought you were."

She left his room, closing the door behind her. Coming from Jeannie, they hurt like a hundred beatings from Sabretooth. His head still hung low, Logan closed his eyes and clenched his fists. He couldn't keep calling himself an X-man if he stayed on this path. He was a fighter who wasn't putting up much of a fight. For a guy who was literally built to fight, that was downright pathetic. He had to do something. Sooner or later, to get back to being Wolverine again.

* * *

**Central African Plains**

The African Savannah had always held a special place for Storm. Hovering in the sky surrounded by clouds and warm sunlight had always been her sanctuary. Here in Africa, it took on a special meaning. This was where she grew up. This was where she established her connection with nature. As such, this is where she often found peace in a constantly chaotic world. This time was no exception save for one important difference. Her connection with nature was part of a mission, but it was a very different mission this time.

In a rare change of pace for the X-men, they were doing more than fighting anti-mutant sentiments, subduing deviant mutants that couldn't be handled by the authorities, and helping the MSA uphold the treaty with Genosha. For once, they were getting back to their roots with simple heroics. Such heroics had become increasingly rare for the X-men, yet even when they had opportunities, they were complicated by various circumstances. But for those they helped, that didn't make their deeds any less meaningful.

"How's it going up there, Storm? We almost ready?" yelled Shadowcat from the ground below.

"Almost Shadowcat! Just give me a few more minutes," Storm replied.

"Take your time. We've got plenty to keep us busy down here."

"Speak for yourself," said Iceman, who was working alongside her, "At least you've had the luxury of breaks."

"Don't let that annoying voice distract you, Storm. That's probably just a dying vulture gagging on its last meal," said Shadowcat, playfully ignoring her teammate.

"And you call _me_ immature?"

She still didn't acknowledge his complaining. Shadowcat didn't often give the silent treatment, but when she did it was usually for the better. It saved Iceman the energy of getting into another argument with his ex and allowed him to focus on the task at hand.

This mission was a far cry from the operations Cyclops and the others were running in India. This was purely a humanitarian/PR mission. The Savannah of East Africa had been ravaged by drought and a recent civil war. Thanks to the recent economic boom, there was more incentive to stop the fighting and get rid of the corrupt leaders who were exploiting these people. Since this was Storm's homeland, she felt obligated to participate.

She was working on bringing the rains back while he and Shadowcat got some of the necessities for a functioning community up and running again. Shadowcat had spent the last few hours phasing through rubble, retrieving power lines, and fixing plumbing systems. Iceman's main job was to use his ice powers to carve out irrigation and soak the parched farmland as best he could. They had already helped two other towns get everything up and running again and the third was among the toughest thus far.

They weren't doing it alone either. A large team of UN peacekeepers, some with ties to the MSA, were helping out with aid and security. The local population was grateful, although at times it seemed they were operating under the UN's thumb and not their own.

"We need ten more rows of ditches running parallel to the well," one of the UN officials called out in a thick African accent, "Make sure they're in place before the weather witch brings the rains."

"Not to sound like smug or anything, but in America we do have this word called _please_," replied Iceman.

"Easy Iceman, remember what the Professor said about diplomacy," said Shadowcat, stepping in before the official could reply.

"_Now_ you stop with the silent treatment?"

"It's for a good cause, remember? The X-men need this and so do mutants. We never would have had this chance six months ago so _try_ not to make light of it," she reminded him.

Iceman rolled his eyes and let Shadowcat coordinate with the official. She took charge, giving status reports to various UN peacekeepers while hundreds of anxious villagers waited impatiently. It was probably bizarre, seeing a teenage girl talk as if she was some veteran diplomat. It was probably even more bizarre for the people to see them using such amazing powers. It may have been a little scary too, but the promise of a more peaceful and prosperous life outweighed the underlying fears.

In a sense Iceman couldn't be completely cynical. Shadowcat was right. The X-men never would have had this opportunity six months ago. They wouldn't have even had it back when they were wearing masks, running around the world and playing hero wherever they could. This was a politically sensitive part of the world and thanks to their partnership with the MSA, they had opportunities to go into areas where their powers were needed most. These people were desperate and placed a great deal of hope in the X-men. Yet there were still times when their heroics didn't have the same luster they did beforehand.

'_Years of playing hero and now I get to be a real humanitarian. I should be relieved. It sure beats the hell out of fighting a giant robots. So why does it make me feel like less a hero and more an errand boy?'_

Iceman tried to ignore the politics and focus on his job. Using various ice slides, he formed large wedges that literally carved a path into the hard dirt. It wasn't easy forming ice in these arid conditions. It took more energy than usual, but it was energy well-spent. The once dead farmlands were already looking better, needing only seeds and water to start producing. It was hard to stay completely focused. Everywhere he turned, there were UN peacekeepers scrutinizing his every move. Even though this was supposed to be a humanitarian mission, it still felt a bit too much like a war zone.

In addition to the peacekeepers, there were a number of international media crews. They were mostly government sanctioned and played their typical role. They reported on their heroic acts, showing how the X-men and the governments of the world were working together. It gave the X-men and the MSA some much needed PR. There was still a lot of fear out there in wake of the Cambrian incident. Doing humanitarian work could help just as much as aiding the MSA, but not nearly as much as it should.

"Are you done channeling your inner Cyclops, Shadowcat? I'm almost done here," Iceman called out as he made another pass.

Shadowcat smiled for the cameras and offered a few more diplomatic gestures to the officials before catching up with her teammate.

"I think we've averted an international incident if that's what you're asking," she said to him.

"I guess that's a good thing. We should probably save those for when the cameras aren't looking," he said dryly.

"Still with the attitude, Bobby?" groaned Shadowcat, "Am I going to have to give you the silent treatment again?"

"Before you do, can I pose at least one serious question?" said Iceman as he formed one last ice wedge.

"Is it about who gets stuck with what job?" she said dryly, "Unless you think phasing through sewer lines and sifting through mountains of rubble is better, I don't see anything worth arguing."

"It's not that. It's this whole government sanctioned heroics routine," he said, grunting a bit as he drove through some particularly tough terrain, "You weren't around when we were just mutant teenagers wearing masks. You don't know what it was like when we could just find a place in the world that needed help, jump into the X-jet, and go there without anybody _sanctioning _it."

"If you're about to go off on a right-wing political rant, then I'm calling it in. The world as we know it is over."

"There's nothing right-wing, left-wing, or whatever wing about it. Just look around, Kitty. We're acting like humanitarians, but we're pandering to people like President Kelly and Wanda Maximoff. Is this because we're trying to be heroes? Or is it just because we're trying to stay in their good graces? I don't think I need to point out which one I prefer."

Shadowcat had been avoiding the more unpleasant circumstnaces of this mission. She did not want to distract herself from the good they were doing. However, Iceman made some valid points, much to her surprise. It was impossible to ignore these government sanctioned peacekeepers and their specially selected media crews to cover their deeds. It changed the feeling of what it meant to be an X-man and she hadn't yet gotten used to that feeling.

Trying to stay on the good side of men like General Grimshaw and Wanda Maximoff wasn't what she signed up for when she joined the X-men. She didn't sign up for fighting giant robots or going toe-to-toe with aliens either. That was supposed to be part of their struggle as mutants. Perhaps her perspective was a little skewed in some respects, but she still had reason to believe that they had made progress with their struggle.

She glanced over towards the villagers they were helping, few of whom even spoke English or understood what the X-men were. Pandering aside, there were people that needed help here and that's what they were doing regardless of the logistics.

"These people need help, Iceman. That's all there is to it," she told him, "The brown points we get with the guys in fancy suits are bonus. That's all."

"So it doesn't bother you?" said Iceman as he finished with the last ditch.

"Of course it bothers me. I'm just trying to remember the big picture. We're still doing good, aren't we? That should be enough."

"You're right. It _should_ be," he said distantly.

Shadowcat scolded him for his ironically cold tone. Bobby Drake was usually not this cynical. That role usually fell to Rogue, who wasn't even an active member of the team. It led her to believe that there may be another reason behind his attitude.

"You know, I'm starting to miss the old Iceman who would have at least cracked six jokes about how there are more wildebeests than bathrooms in this country," said Shadowcat, "Makes me wonder if the real Iceman is still back in District X getting cozy with Jubilee."

"Here we go again," Iceman groaned, "My ex-girlfriend is about to give me another lecture on my current girlfriend."

"More like pseudo-girlfriend," she pointed out, "Not to sounds like your mother here, but you don't seem as serious about her as you used to be."

"Is this really the time to talk about relationship issues? I doubt those villagers would appreciate hearing how messed up the mutant dating scene has been lately."

"Seeing as how you used the words _messed_ and _up,_ I'll take that as a sign that things aren't so jubilant with Jubilee."

Iceman groaned again. Now he was _really_ missing Shadowcat's silent treatment. He almost forgot that whenever this girl did decide to talk, she was about a subtle as a punch to the gut.

"Maybe you're right about this not being the place, But if something like this is affecting that charming attitude of yours, I think it's worth bringing up," she said.

"My attitude is not the problem here," said Iceman.

"It's still a close second," Shadowcat retorted, "Now I haven't been keeping up with your love life for a reason. I've got my own personal stuff to deal with and it's _way _less complicated then you're making yours out to be."

"Does that _stuff_ happen to have a Russian accent?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she replied coyly, "All I'm saying is that if something's wrong, do you want to deal with it or do you want to keep giving everybody an attitude? I think I speak for everyone when I say we can do without the attitude."

It was hard to tell how serious Shadowcat was with that blunt nature of hers. But just because she was his ex didn't mean she stopped caring. She did know better than most people about what happened when his personal affairs got complicated. She was also not the kind to stay silent on the issue. Six months was a long time to keep all the intimate details to himself. Maybe it was worth confronting.

While Iceman inwardly debated this issue, the skies grew cloudy and a rumble of thunder echoed from above. The blistering sun that had baked the land in a burning African heat was soon shrouded and the dry air gave way to some long overdue rain. It took a while to put together, but Storm had worked her magic. The drought in this war-torn area had officially ended.

"The clouds are ready!" she called out from the clouds, "Is the irrigation system complete?"

"Locked and loaded, Miss Munroe," Shadowcat yelled up from below.

"Then you had best find an umbrella. The forecast is about to change very quickly!"

With a grace that astonished both the peacekeepers and the villagers, Storm triggered the pent up energy within the clouds. Through the echoes of more thunder, the heavens opened up and rain poured down upon the barren land. When the people felt this life-giving moisture upon their faces, they smiled and cheered in their native language.

"_The rains have returned!" _

"_At last we shall not stave!"_

"_Praise to the weather goddess!" _

Upon hearing these cheers, Iceman finally cracked a smile.

"I don't speak whatever language they're speaking, but I think we've made some friends," said Iceman.

"The X-men can never have too many," shrugged Shadowcat.

The UN officials clapped, showing their support as well. They seemed content with the results and so was Storm. With her eyes still glowing, she descended back towards the surface to meet up with her fellow X-men.

"That's the third drought ended this month," she said proudly.

"Not bad for political pandering as Iceman here calls it," said Shadowcat, giving her friend a teasing nudge, "You want to tell our resident weather goddess how missions like this are tainted by relations with the MSA?"

"At the risk of getting a bolt of lightning between the eyes, I'll plead the fifth," said Iceman sheepishly.

"No need to be coy, Bobby. I could hear you two arguing. It's not as loud up there as you think," she said with a friendly smile.

"Oh…well there goes what's left of my dignity."

"Don't start apologizing. The X-men are operating under a different set of rules since the Genosha deal. We may have more responsibilities in guarding Genosha's cargo, but we also have opportunities as well. Those opportunities are only enhanced when we have some official recognition."

"Plus, the extra PR really does help," said Shadowcat.

"Whatever," sighed Iceman, "So it really doesn't bother you, Miss Munroe? You're really okay with how the X-men operate right now?"

Storm kept smiling. He had her reservations. She had been on her share of missions that involved walking side-by-side with the MSA, protecting the technology that was driving this prosperity. They weren't always successful, nor were they nearly as fulfilling. But it was still the same mission. The details may have changed, but the X-men's underlying vision had not.

"I won't say it's perfect. The world is changing and the X-men should change with it. We may have to work under conditions we do not like. But so long as we keep doing good things with our powers, then our purpose will continue to hold true…even if it means overcoming challenges we're not used to facing."

"You mean like posing for news cameras and shaking hands with guys in suits?" Iceman pointed out, gesturing towards the approaching media.

"Among others," she smiled, "Compared to what others are facing, I'll gladly take it."

* * *

**District X Headquarters – Tessa's Quarters**

"The FBI, the CIA, the NSA, Interpol, Homeland Security, the UN, NATO, and even the Chinese secret police…all hacked with a level of skill that I can't help but admire. Each bears the same digital fingerprints. Whatever cyber punk left them is the same punk that hacked the Xavier Institute."

"I think we've established the skill level of this nefarious computer whiz, my darling. It doesn't get us closer to the answers we seek," said an exasperated Hank McCoy.

"I know it doesn't. I just like to restate the obvious so I remember how much these dead ends piss miss off."

Sage's voice was as mechanical as the computer she was typing on. She had turned her emotions off again. She had to in order to avoid the burning frustration she would otherwise feel. Her room in the heart of District X became the equivalent of a crime scene and foor the past six months she had been obsessing over one disheartening failure.

The Xavier Institute had been hacked and she failed to stop it. She had a computer-like mind and a mastery of all things digital. Yet somehow, she had been bested by some faceless hacker. She was a trusted ally of the X-men and she happened to be in love with one of them. They relied on her to protect their network and she failed them. As such, she had to atone for that failure.

Hank knew better than anyone how much it affected her. She had been a lot more uptight since it happened and for her, that was saying something. He was just as upset to discover that someone bested the network security that he designed for the institute. There was still no telling what it was this hacker stole. Worst of all, Sage's obsession with this failure had distracted her from other more pressing matters.

"I'm usually on the other end of this criticism, but I may soon grow jealous of all the attention you're giving your computer," said Hank, who was sitting behind her with his laptop.

"We've both been working tirelessly for last eight hours without food, break, or sex. Seeing as how that's not even close to our record for a computer date, we shouldn't make an issue of it," said Sage flatly.

"I disagree. I maintain that we should be making a much bigger issue of this matter," said Hank more assertively, "You've been intently focused on the institute security breach while I've been juggling several other projects regarding the latest string of attempted technology thefts."

"I thought Cyclops already provided a report on the Calcutta mission. Based on what I saw, there was nothing ground-breaking about it. Zero is a well-known mercenary. Calcutta is not known for its port security. They stopped him from stealing much, but since Zero got away, it's just another dead end."

"That's not the point," said Hank, frustrated by her cold tone, "You're not just my digital confidante. You're my girlfriend. That breach happened six months ago. There are a whole new host of problems facing me and the X-men. The technology Genosha is exporting helps maintain a fragile peace for our kind. That has made it an _enormous_ target that more than a few have taken shots at. And I need help from the one I trust most to uncover who is taking those shots."

Sage finally stopped typing on her computer. The emotions within her continued to fester. Her machine-like mind kept them turned off. Even so, the harsh scrutiny of her lover was difficult to ignore. This was not the first time he brought up this subject, but it was the first time he got visibly upset. On her computer screen, there were still terabytes of data that needed processing. Her mind was inclined to keep going, but her heart pulled her in another direction.

Hank sighed and set his laptop aside for a moment. If only he had the luxury of turning off his emotions, then outbursts like this would be unnecessary. He made his way over towards Sage's desk so he could embrace her in his powerful arms.

"I'm sorry, my dear. That was uncalled for," he said remorsefully.

"No…it was overdue," she said.

"Then why does it still sound like you're completely indifferent?"

"Because when I flip that proverbial switch at times like this…it hurts."

Hank watched as the expression on her face finally shifted, turning to one of painful sorrow. There were even a few tears, indicating that she had just flipped that switch as she described. Even with more data streaming onto her screen, she reached up and placed her hand over his.

"I don't mean to be cold. It's in my nature to _turn it off_ when I get upset," she said.

"That's perfectly understandable. Emotions tend to be very distracting. We've shared many _distractions_ in this room, as a result," said Hank.

"Don't be too understanding, Hank. I don't deserve your empathy at the moment," said Sage through strained words, "I wouldn't have to be so damn cold if I had stopped that breach in the first place. I was responsible. You and the rest of the X-men were off saving the world from aliens. All I had to do was stop some hacker with the vast array of resources I have at my disposal here in District X. And I failed!"

"You make it sound as though this was an amateur cyber bully who bested our collective computing brilliance."

"That's just it. This was just a man. His operates under the alias, Arcade, and by all accounts, he doesn't have a computer for a mind or a room full of custom-built equipment," said Sage distantly as she gazed into the incoming data, "Granted, he's one of the best. Homeland Security and Interpol listed him as one of their most dangerous hackers. But he shouldn't have been able to beat me."

"You may have a computer for a mind, but you're still human, Sage," he told her, "Besides, he may have had more of an advantage than we think. We concluded months ago that he was using some advanced equipment, most likely military grade."

"Seeing as how I've bested the Pentagon's top hackers with monotonous regularity, that's not much consolation," she muttered, "The more I look into this breach, the more I'm convinced that there are other forces at work. I suspect it may have ties to the same people who have been trying to disrupt the Genosha peace treaty."

"Exactly how certain are you?" Hank questioned.

"Certain enough to be very frustrated," she clarified, "Maybe I am obsessing more than I should, but I'm not used to so many people relying on me. Keeping District X together is hard enough. Being with you, working with the X-men, and helping to uncover the countless threats that stand against us is more difficult than even the best computer could have calculated."

Sage needed a moment to filter these emotions. She clung hard to her lover's furry flesh, almost to the point of digging her nails into him. Hank did not complain. She needed this. It seemed at times he was the only one she showed her deepest emotions to. She was also not used to dealing with the X-men's overwhelming conflicts. With mutants facing shifting roles in wake of this Genosha deal, the burden was greater for everybody.

"I'm sure you'll _upgrade_ as new challenges unfold," offered Hank.

"That's not funny," said Sage, despite grinning somewhat.

"I apologize if my wit is not up to par. I'm burned out and so are you. We must face the difficult truth that despite our efforts, we cannot uncover the details behind the institute breach or comprehend these plots against the Genosha deal with the data we currently have."

"It's still out there. I can feel it," she said, not taking her eyes off her computer screen, "Beneath all these plots between tech thieves, industrial espionage, and general mutant hatred, I sense there's a much bigger plot developing behind the scenes."

"If that is indeed the case, then we aren't going to uncover anything if we keep trying to kick through the doors rather than finding the keys to open them."

"I thought your wit wasn't up to speed," she said with a larger smile.

"That may just mean you're in more need of a break than me."

Sage finally shifted her gaze away from her computer screen. Hank continued to express his concern, trailing his furry hand over her face. The warm sensations always had a powerful effect on her. Even with all the data she had yet to process, her energy for doing so was clearly in need of refreshing. She also owed Hank some long overdue intimacy.

"So are you going to take my advice? Or shall I prepare a 13 gigabit AI algorithm to explain in detail all the reasons why we should rest?" said Hank.

"I'll save you the trouble and the bandwidth," said Sage as she got up from her seat and stretched a bit, "In this instance I'll yield to my boyfriend's concern. But don't go reporting to Bishop that I've lightened up. I still want to atone for this breach."

"You'll have your chance, my dear. Now what do you say we go for a nice walk? Some fresh air would do us well."

"In the middle of New York City?" she pointed out.

"Relatively speaking," he said sheepishly.

They laughed together, something Sage hadn't done in far too long. Already, she was feeling more refreshed. A romantic outing with her boyfriend would surely do more. Still grasping his hand, Sage followed Hank out of her room.

One way or another, she was going to best Arcade just as he had bested to her. Whatever secrets he was hiding, she was convinced it was part of something bigger. There were too few clues to go on right now. However, that anonymity could only last but so long. Sooner or later, their digital wits were going to clash again. When that time came, she would be ready for him.

* * *

**Unknown Location**

"_David Nord. Also known as Agent Zero. Your mission is complete. Please confirm neuro-mechanical re-alignment."_

"Alignment confirmed," said a stoic, middle-aged man in response to a computerized voice.

Colonel Wraith had come to appreciate the robotic obedience of one of his few remaining assets. His military career may have been hindered by Weapon X, but he still had his share of connections. Agent Zero was one of them and despite his shortcomings, he still delivered.

At the moment, he and a contingent of Reverend Stryker's Purifiers were _de-briefing_ Agent Zero after his return from Calcutta. He also enlisted help from a few former Weapon X technicians who owed him a number of favors. They helped guide Agent Zero through this mission and through various other tasks. In this instance, the mission hadn't been a resounding success. However, he did manage to return with one case of Genosha power cells. That was better than nothing considering how valuable they were and they stage they had recently entered.

"This man looks _possessed_," said Stryker as he watched the technicians, "What trickery is this, Colonel? Another one of your _toys_ from Weapon X?"

"More like an outdated iPod," replied Wraith, "David Nord is a skilled mercenary who used to do contract work for the CIA. Since he's a mutant, he never earned his stripes. That didn't stop Dr. Cornelius from convincing him that he could make him a better soldier. He became the guinea pig that helped us refine the mind-wiping technology we originally planned for Wolverine."

"So he's a mindless drone now?"

"More like the result of some creative brain manipulation. Cornelius installed this special chip inside his frontal lobe that we can interface with. Right now, these former associates of mine are essentially putting Agent Zero into hibernation while David Nord takes over. He doesn't have a clue he's a highly skilled mercenary. Thanks to the chip, he thinks he's just a patient at a mental ward that a friend of mine happens to run."

"Sounds like a cumbersome way to turn a mutant into a weapon," scoffed the Reverend.

"He was a beta test. Nothing more," shrugged the Colonel, "He can still get the job done. And when Zero isn't active, his essentially brain dead. That way a telepath can't look into his mind and figure out what he does. Granted, this makes giving him complex tasks a problem, but when it comes to stealing hardware from a ship he still delivers."

"Partially anyways," Stryker reminded him.

"With some minor tweaking, it should still be enough for us to proceed."

"That's for our resident computer genius to decide. If only he would stop obsessing over these new Genoshan electronics."

"That's a big if, Reverend."

While David Nord returned to his docile state, a number of Purifiers passed by carrying some crates. Behind them was a very jittery Arcade, who had the case with the Genoshan power cell that Agent Zero retrieved securely in his arms. His demeanor was one of someone who hadn't slept in days thanks to an excessive influx of caffeine. They couldn't entirely blame him either because what they were planning required a great deal of hardware and considerable time in implementing it.

"Will you guys at least _try_ to hold those crates steady? Those components are more fragile than they look," exclaimed Arcade as he rushed the Purifiers along.

"Ease up, Radioshack. It's not like we're carrying fine china or anything," grunted an annoyed soldier.

"Fine china does not contain the latest nano-scale, PX6116 dual-processing matrix. This is the kind of gear that only Genosha can provide. In a fools language, that means they're _very _powerful and _very _valuable."

"Keep your pants on and clean out your pocket protector, Poindexter. The last thing I wanna hear is we have muties to thank for this."

"If you're intent on changing that, you'll listen to what I say," retorted Arcade, "I also hate having to rely on Genosha for this kind of hardware. But when I'm through with them, that island won't be worth the rock it's made of."

Arcade had quite a flare for the dramatics, even if his obsessive nature was annoying. Colonel Wraith and Reverend Stryker watched him lead the Purifiers towards the central control room where all this hardware came together in what promised to be the nerve center for the first step of their plan.

It had been in development for the past six months. Since they breached the Xavier Institute's security, it was a test in patience. The Genosha deal changed things a great deal, stemming the outrage towards mutants that had once been their major advantage. That didn't mean this new status quo was without advantages either.

"I hope the boy can turn that annoying attitude of his into results," said Reverend Stryker, "Our crusade has become quite difficult now that an economic boom is being driven by deals with the wicked."

"None of that will matter in the long run. Even if Arcade's ego is too big for his stature, his skills should more than suffice."

"I'm still not sure about keeping him on board for the next step. His soul troubles me," said Stryker.

"Holy or not, we need him. He'll be instrumental in putting that power cell to good use. Since we don't have as many as I planned, we'll have to improvise. That means getting our old friend, Graydon Creed, out of his prison cell may get a little _messier_ than expected."

"The mess isn't what bothers me. Creed is a noble soul who was imprisoned for standing up to the wicked. My chief concern is how we'll maintain our anonymity once we have him on our side," said the Reverend.

"That's where the very faith you preach about comes in, Reverend," said Wraith ominously, "Now I may not be a man of the cloth, but I'm more than capable of relying on a good, well-connected friend."

Colonel Wraith was as confident as he was cryptic. He loved to play things close to the chest. Reverend Stryker admired and despised that aspect to him. It did little to dissuade the determined officer. He kept on grinning as he took out his cell phone and made a call to one of those _friends_ he mentioned.

"_You're late."_

"I apologize, Mr. Shaw. We've had a few setbacks, but we're still on schedule."

"_Good. Everything is ready on my end too. I'm sure you don't care enough about how much this Genosha deal has ruined my business so I'll skip the pep talk. Just do what you promised and take Graydon Creed as consolation. We'll discuss the finer details later."_

* * *

**Up next: Escaping Destiny**


	2. Issue 99: Escaping Destiny

**Issue #99  
Escaping Destiny**

* * *

_For years, Professor Charles Xavier and his X-men have used their extraordinary powers to protect a world that hates and fears them. Now they're protecting more than the world. They're protecting an international treaty that is keeping hostilities at bay and improving human/mutant relations on an unprecedented level._

_In wake of the Cambrian incident, the mutant nation of Genosha made a deal that exchanges peace for advanced technology, courtesy of a crashed Shi'ar ship. This technology has led to an economic boom that has re-defined human/mutation relations. Now there is a great incentive to avoid conflict. However, this technology has become the target of some sinister forces. Some are ordinary criminals. Others have a much larger agenda. The mystery of which is which continues to unfold._

_In the midst of this transition, the X-men embark on a new kind of mission. Now that they work with the support of the Mutant Security Agency, the nature of their operations are shifting. It is not clear where this shift will lead them. What is clear is that new developments will continue to emerge, often from unexpected places._

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Upper Dormitories**

Part of being an X-man had involved managing a long list of challenges and constantly changing missions. The recent developments on Genosha and the emergence of the Mutant Security Agency did plenty to make that list even longer. There seemed to be no end to it. There was always a threat to this fragile new status quo and the X-men often had to intervene. It left the team with some mixed feelings while ensuring their workload remained consistently overwhelming.

Between these new challenges, the team still dealt with the rigors of class and personal affairs. The Xavier Institute was still a school and academics were still part of their routine. In addition, personal drama also found a way to affect the team. Couples like Scott and Jean found it increasingly difficult to enjoy their relationship amidst these challenges. After the mission in Calcutta, they finally had a chance to catch up.

"Sounds like this Agent Zero guy was a real pain," said Jean as she walked alongside her lover after morning classes.

"That would be an overly simple assessment of an exceedingly complicated mission," sighed a restless Scott Summers, "It's bad enough these shipments from Genosha are the targets of dictators, organized crime, and everything in between. These super-powered thieves do a lot of damage. An entire ship of dead and wounded bodies does not bode well for anybody when the thief has mutant abilities."

"How bad is it?"

"It's nothing the Professor can't handle, although the Indian authorities probably won't settle for a simple apology. I would have loved to uncover more, but Zero away. That's what happens when you're undermanned because _some _of our teammates aren't in fighting condition."

The X-leader's tone shifted. He made no secret of what and who he was referring to. Jean resisted the urge to bring it up, but her lover wasn't so quick to brush it off.

"How is Mr. Too-Messed-Up-To-Help-The-Team anyways?" he asked.

"Scott, that's not fair," said Jean.

"Is it, Jean? You've been babysitting Logan for months now and he's still a mess. Ever since he broke up with Miss Munroe…"

"He's not using that as an excuse anymore. There are a lot of other factors involved that have nothing to do with ex-lovers."

"Even so, he's been way more irresponsible than usual," the X-leader pointed out, "I'm not making light of his problems, but even you have to admit that what he's doing to cope with them _isn't working_. Even Professor Xavier agrees. Logan is only hurting himself and the team with his recklessness."

Jean was usually quick to defend Logan. As his ex-lover and one of his best friends, she understood him better than most. That's what made this latest shift in his demeanor so difficult. Scott's assessment may have been harsh, but he wasn't the only one who shared such sentiment.

Jean stopped walking for a moment. Scott stopped as well, watching his lover hug her shoulders in a conflicted manner. She was pretty torn up about this. Even though he and Logan didn't get along, he understood how Logan's predicament affected her.

"I'm sorry, Jean," said Scott sheepishly, "I shouldn't have…"

"No…don't apologize. I guess Kitty shouldn't be the only one who lays out the cold, hard truth," sighed Jean.

"Don't give me the guilt trip, Jean. You know how much I hate that," he said, reaching out and offering a loving gesture.

"I'm not. I'm just a lot more stressed out about Logan than I want to be."

"We're all stressed, Jean. That's not the issue here," he pointed out, "This is about seeing a friend in pain and I know how that bothers you."

"It's more than just pain he's dealing with," Jean pointed out, "It's not unlike what I went through when I first started manifesting the Phoenix Force. I knew something was coming and eventually I was going to have to confront it. The difference with Logan is he's trying to confront it. He just doesn't know what he has to confront."

"He's a messed up guy with a messed up past. If he truly wants to figure it out, he knows the X-men can help."

"That's the other part that frustrates the hell out of me," said Jean bitterly, "He's completely unwilling to let someone else shoulder the pain. It's as if he _wants_ it to torment him. He _wants_ to punish himself for something he doesn't even know he did."

Jean needed a moment to gather herself, the frustration and sorrow overwhelming her for a moment. Scott comforted her as best he could, pulling her into a light embrace and gently cupping her chin.

"I have a faint idea of what that's like," said Scott in a deep tone, "You've gone out of your way to help him even more than Miss Munroe, who has done more than her share since they split mind you."

"I guess she thinks only a psychic is equipped to deal with Logan at this point," muttered Jean.

"Or maybe she thinks Logan needs to learn how to cope in ways that don't include getting piss-faced drunk on a regular basis. Even you have to admit he's not putting in the effort he should."

"I have a drunk for a father. I know all the negative connotations that come with excessive alcohol consumption."

"On that basis, you should also know that sometimes a guy has to bottom out before he starts pulling himself up again. You're doing everything you can. You're pulling his drunken ass out of the gutter and making sure he wakes up feeling less miserable."

"Although that does include getting puked on a couple of times," she groaned.

"That just shows what a dedicated friend you are," said Scott with a half-hearted smile, "Everybody knows that, including Logan. So long as he has that incentive, he'll find another way. He damn well better for what he's putting you through."

"I'm sure you'll remind him of that every chance you get."

"If there's anyone least deserving of additional stress…it's you, Jean."

The young psychic smiled at her lover. His tender touch and loving words was just what she needed. Scott had always been good at easing her distress. He offered her a tender kiss to help soothe her anxious state. Jean welcomed the feeling, closing her eyes and passionately kissing back.

She was doing all she could for Logan. She had to have faith that he would pull himself out of this rut at some point. Hopefully, he would do it sooner rather than later. In addition, she needed to find her own ways of coping. And since she was in Scott's arms at the moment, she had a golden opportunity to explore some of those ways.

"Thank you, Scott. I was in need of a pep talk," she said upon parting from the kiss.

"Anytime, babe," Scott said with a smile, still keeping her firmly in his arms, "What are good boyfriends for?"

"Well while we're on the subject of stress, I think we both could use some _special relief_," she said coyly.

"Special, as in…" said Scott, allowing his words to trail off.

"If you're really a good boyfriend, you already know the answer to that."

Scott picked up on the seductive subtext of her voice. With the lingering aches of the Calcutta mission still fresh on his body, a little _relief_ was just what the doctor ordered.

"Hmm…well we do have class in an hour. You sure that will give us enough time?" said Scott.

"Probably not," she shrugged, "But between our grades and our unending responsibilities, I think we'll be forgiven if we're a late just this once."

"As much as I value being on time, I value an hour with you a lot more."

The two lovers met in another kiss. This time it was much more heated. Concerns about class, missions, and Logan melted away for a brief moment. It had been a while since they had an opportunity to share in some extensive _stress relief_. This was as good a time as any to catch up.

As Scott and Jean fervently kissed, they stumbled through the hall. Before they reached their bedroom door, Jean went after Scott's pants and Scott pulled off her shirt. By the time they slipped into their room, Jean was naked from the waste up and Scott's fly was undone. Jean telekinetically slammed the door and locked it for good measure, never once leaving the embrace of her lover. While she fumbled with his pants, the started making their way towards the bed. Their desire for each other was so strong they didn't notice that someone was already sitting on the edge of their bed.

"Well isn't this a treat? Dinner and a show," said a wry voice, "Although I don't remember seeing a NC-17 rating at the front door."

Their passionate moment was abruptly shattered. Scott and Jean nearly went into combat mode when they broke away from one another to see a familiar figure staring at them with sultry grin.

"Emma?!" said a bewildered Scott Summers.

"What the hell are you doing here? More importantly, what the hell are you doing in _our room_?!" exclaimed a mortified Jean Grey, promptly covering her exposed upper body with her arms.

"Nice to see you too, darling," said Emma Frost dryly, "It seems you've kept in good shape since I last saw you. But don't you think modesty is a bit pointless with me? Neither of you has anything I haven't seen before."

Scott and Jean were now blushing profusely. They had not seen Emma Frost since the Phoenix affair. They knew she had dropped by a few times to talk with the Professor. But after her role with the Inner Circle and the betrayal that followed, it was still a bit awkward being in the same room with her.

Never-the-less, Emma Frost was a former X-man. She was even wearing the revealing halter top and tight fitting white pants that matched the style she wore when she was part of the team. She didn't look threatening. She actually looked amused, if not excessively so. With plenty of suspicion and a touch of curiosity, Scott zipped up his pants and Jean telekinetically retrieved her shirt. If they weren't going to be relieving any stress, they might as well get some answers.

"Touché, Emma," said a bemused Jean Grey, "Do you have a reason for being here or did just come to sneak a peek at our private lives?"

"Oh come now, you know if I wanted that I could always replay the many cherished memories I have of sharing Scott's bed," she quipped.

"Cut the lurid comments, Emma. Explain yourself!" commanded Scott, making it clear she had yet to regain their trust.

The harsh words of her ex-lover tapered Emma Frost's demeanor. Few men ever dared to talk to her like that. Scott Summers was one of the few who could both stand up to her and humble her to the point where she would swallow her bloated pride.

"Fine. I should have known it hasn't been enough time for you to forgive me, especially after breaking your heart and your trust," she said, getting up from the bed.

"Yeah…you should have," said Jean bitterly.

"Don't rub it in, Jean," said Scott before turning back to his former lover, "Emma, you know I'm a very forgiving guy. I understand you don't do the things you do without a reason. Granted, those reasons may not make sense, but they're never outright cruel."

"Oh Scott…even after we stopped sleeping together, you give my heart more credit than it deserves," sighed Emma.

"I mean it," said the X-leader with more a more serious disposition, "Talk to us, Emma. It's been a while since that Inner Circle incident. You said you had reasons for doing what you did. If you came here to talk, Jean and I are willing to listen."

"Speak for yourself," muttered Jean.

Scott ignored his lover's bitter words and so did Emma. She still found it hard to look at either of them, especially Jean. After what Charles told her about the Phoenix affair, she deserved all the resentment she got. Jean hadn't forgotten their history as friends and Scott hadn't forgotten their history as lovers. That was part of what made it so hard to finally work up the nerve to come here.

Emma Frost shoved her ego into the recesses of her mind, retrieved a small picture from her pocket, and placed it into Scott's hand. On it, there was an image of three teenage girls that bore an uncanny resemblance to Emma. They all had vacant looks in their eyes and were wearing what appeared to be school uniforms. While Scott was taking in the picture, Jean came up to see for herself.

"What exactly are we looking at?" asked Jean.

"Emma, who are these girls?" asked Scott intently.

"Those girls…are the reason I was betrayed the X-men," said Emma solemnly, "Their names are Mindee, Pheobe, and Celeste. Biologically speaking, they're my clones. Technically speaking…they're my daughters."

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Xavier's Office**

Logan never liked being lectured. He didn't need to be told he was a mess. He was already well-aware of that and he often used that self-awareness as justification for drinking himself into oblivion on a regular basis. However, that didn't mean it was a valid justification.

Professor Charles Xavier was one of the few men he took seriously when it came to morality lectures. This man had more moral fiber than anyone he had ever known. He also gave him a home and a new path when nobody else would. So given his recent shifts in behavior, Professor Xavier had every right to talk down to him. Unlike Jeannie, he was a lot more pragmatic about it.

"We've had this conversation one too many times, Logan. I know you've had your share of problems. I'm not claiming to understand those problems either. My primary concern is how you're dealing with them," said Charles Xavier with a critical tone.

"Ain't like I've been doin' much dealing, Chuck. Between booze, bar fights, and hangovers, the only thing I've figured out is how to make a bigger ass of myself," grumbled Logan as he sat in a chair across from Xavier's desk.

"I was simply going to say you were being insensitive, but that works just as well."

"That supposed to boost my self-esteem?"

"If nothing else, I hope it gives you an idea of how disappointed I am with you," said Xavier in a calm yet scathing tone.

Logan was inclined to shoot back, but it was useless against a man like Charles Xavier. This was his school and had done everything possible to make it a home for him. Logan was in no position to question his judgment, especially when his judgment been so damn lousy lately.

"Logan, you're letting yourself fall into old habits. You've made so much progress since joining the X-men and I hate seeing that progress regress."

"It pisses me off too, Chuck. Don't think it ain't on my mind," said Logan defensively, "I know I got a good deal here. And believe me when I say I don't want to fuck it up."

"Yet you seem to be pushing every boundary that's been built around you. Jean told me you won't even reconsider psychic counseling sessions," Xavier pointed out.

"I already know my mind is a mess. Before I got here, it was because of the shit I _didn't_ know. Now that I know about Rose, Sabretooth, Deadpool, the Yashdias, and Omega Red…hell, I ain't sure psychic therapy will take me that far."

"You won't know unless you allow us to _try_," urged Professor Xavier.

"I know, damn it! I'm just…I'm not sure I wanna know right now. At least not until I can get my act together so I stand at least _some_ chance at handling it," grumbled Logan, "I'm tryin' to cut back on the drinking. Jeannie and Ro already started hiding my booze and _somebody_ seems to have blacklisted me from a few bars nearby."

Xavier could tell from his dry tone who Logan suspected that somebody was. He ignored the accusation and kept the conversation focused.

"While I'm glad to hear you're _trying_, I'm also concerned about the time you've been spending on your personal affairs. Nearly every night, you either go out to get drunk or you go out searching for this teenage girl with claws you told me about. X-23 is it?"

"Laura…her name is _Laura_," said Logan ardently.

"My apologies," said Xavier calmly, "You say she's working as a teenage prostitute. I think it's safe to assume her life is quite difficult. Yet for some reason she does not wish to be found."

"She's angry, confused, and unstable. Can't say I blame her for pushing people away."

"So what do you hope to gain by finding her?"

"The hell if I know. Maybe I need to, okay? I need something to fill this damn hole that's been torturing me since I broke up with Storm. Don't ask me what it is or why it's only been bothering me recently. I feel like I'm close to…I don't know, getting some answers. Maybe they're with this X-23 girl. Maybe they ain't. All I know is that something's missing and it's driving me freakin' crazy!"

There was a lot of anger and pain in his voice and it was different from the kind of anger and pain that he saw when Logan first arrived. Even with telepathy, it was hard to decipher. The former living weapon sealed his mind, indicating that he wanted to deal with this on his own. He let the X-men help him rebuild the shards of his soul. He wanted to rebuild the rest.

The Professor took a moment to ponder this predicament. As much as he empathized with Logan's plight, he couldn't continue to tolerate his behavior. It was bad for him, the team, and their ongoing mission to protect the fragile peace they had sacrificed so much to establish. Something had to be done and if he couldn't address his problems directly, then he would have to use the indirect approach.

"Logan, if you are really feeling this tormented, then as headmaster of this institute I must take action," he said assertively.

"Let me guess…I'm suspended or some shit like that? You want me to fork over my uniform or something?" said Logan dryly.

"Of course not," assured Charles, "You're an X-man. And X-men don't turn their backs on one another. Since you've been slipping into bad habits under our current routine, then I feel the best recourse is to change that routine."

"What the hell does that involve? Makin' me teach an art class or something?"

"I was thinking something a bit more hands on," said Xavier, "Until you're back in the proper form, I'm reassigning you with another task. As you know, Genosha and the international authorities have been struggling to keep their ports secured while exporting Shi'ar technology. It isn't just highly skilled thieves trying to take this precious cargo. Even lesser, exceedingly reckless foes can't resist stirring up conflict at a time when we cannot afford it. Someone needs to be there to provide more of a _deterrent_."

Logan was intrigued by the Professor's undertone. It wasn't a team mission and it wasn't a personal assignment either. This actually sounded like something specifically tailored to his strengths, which might be exactly what he needed right now. Remembering what he was good at and using them the right way was part of what made him an X-man.

"So let me get this straight…you want me to commute back and forth to Genosha and play the part of a private top cop?"

"Officially, you'll be a _security consultant_ of Genoshan affairs," said Professor Xavier, "Since the island has become such a turbulent place, it could never hurt to have an extra set of eyes, ears, and in your case a nose on the ground."

"You really think I'm gonna find anything crazier than we already have on that place?" said Logan skeptically.

"Well you won't know until you search now, will you?" said Xavier with a slight grin, "I'll have Wanda provide us with a transport orb to get you back and forth. This assignment will start immediately."

"You're setting it up before I even agree to it?"

"Unless you feel you can resolve these issues in a more expedient manner, this isn't up for a debate. Thank of it as a side-project rather than a demand."

Logan scoffed at Xavier's attempts to sugarcoat this decision. He was too polite to call it a direct order. The idea of spending extra time on Genosha didn't have much appeal. But at the very least, it would be a place full of distractions that would keep him from obsessing over his personal problems. In that sense the Professor's decision made perfect sense.

"So you think spending more time in Genosha is gonna make me less fucked up somehow," said Logan as he rose up from his seat, "Makes about as much sense as half the shit I do anyways."

"So you'll give this an honest try?" said Xavier.

"You got enough on your plate, Chuck. We all do. Since Rogue and Elf ain't back from their vacation yet, I might as well give us one less thing to worry about."

The Professor smiled. This was probably the most hopeful he had seen Logan in months. Watching the feral mutant leave his office, he was confident that this would be good for him. At the same time, he was also curious about this _hole_ he mentioned. Logan's past was still full of mysteries. In all likelihood, they were going to confront more of those mysteries as time went on.

Once Logan stepped out of Xavier's office, he was greeted by Ororo Munroe. It appeared she had been standing outside the office listening in on the conversation. She had this strange smile on her face, which clearly indicated that she knew something.

"Do my eyes deceive me? Did you just smile, Logan?" she teased.

"Only a little. Don't throw a freakin' parade or anything," he replied, "Any particular reason why you were eavesdropping?"

"For the same reason I would have if we were still dating…because I care," said Ororo in a more affectionate tone.

"Right. And I'm sure it had _nothing_ to do with you pitching the whole Genosha idea."

Ororo shifted, unable to stop herself from smiling awkwardly. It was hard hiding secrets from a friend. It was even harder hiding secrets from an ex-lover. She and Logan were still getting used to being friends again. The past few months hadn't made it easy on them. That didn't mean Ororo gave up on helping this man, even if it involved getting the Professor involved.

"I may have made a few suggestions here and there," she said innocently.

"Sure you did," he said dryly as he started walking down the hall, "So I guess I should send all my thanks to Chuck if this works out?"

"You could if you wanted to be a pompous ass," said the African beauty, latching onto his arm as she caught up with him.

"Seeing as how you've slept with this pompous ass, that ain't saying much," he teased, "But seeing as how I'm so messed up and girls like you and Jeannie care so damn much, I'll thanks anyways. I guess until I figure this shit out, it couldn't hurt to stay busy."

"Enough to get you to cut back on the drinking?"

"Don't push it, Ro. I got a _long_ list of problems to take care of first."

* * *

**New York City – Broadway**

The crowded streets of a bustling city were not always ideal for unwinding. Between training, missions, and class, the already limited free time the X-men had at their disposal had been further curtailed. So when they finally got a chance to get away from work, pretty much any destination was a breath of fresh air.

After making it through a string of morning classes and training sessions, a few of the X-men took an afternoon trip into New York City. Bobby organized it on the fly with Piotr and Remy choosing to tag along. They wore jackets and baseball caps so they wouldn't be easily recognized. Now that they were on the news so often, it was hard to maintain their anonymity. Since they had no telepath to tweak everyone's perceptions, they had to rely on old fashioned disguises as they made their way down Broadway.

"Explain it to me again, Bobby. Why are we spending our free period on Broadway in the middle of the day?" asked Piotr Rasputin.

"What? You don't like Broadway, Peter?" said Bobby, "With all the hours you've been hunched over a computer screen, I thought anywhere other than a trip to Genosha would be a welcome escape."

"I am liking it fine. I am just not seeing why we need to be in this particular part of the city at this time of day, that's all. There is traffic, there is crowds, and there is long lines for every possible activity."

"Dude…have you _ever_ actually been to New York?" joked Bobby.

"Perhaps you askin' the wrong questions, Pete," said Remy tactfully, "I think bein' in New York gives it away. Iceboy here is hopin' to run into Jubilee again."

"Now why would I ask you guys to tag along if I was just looking to run into my favorite gal pal?" said Bobby confidently.

"Don't know. Could it be you been frustrated with this femme lately and you be wantin' to confront her without you lookin' desperate?" quipped the Cajun, "Remy remembers you sayin' how Jubilee loves to sneak into Broadway plays 'round this time of day."

Bobby shot Remy a bemused glance. He knew he should have convinced Scott to come along instead. At least he was polite enough not to sound like such a jerk when he brought up personal affairs.

"Are you really hoping to bump into Jubilee like this?" asked Piotr seriously.

"No!" he said, almost shouting, "I mean…no, but I wouldn't necessarily mind."

"And you expect us to believe you after an outburst like that?" scoffed Remy.

"Would it be too much to ask even if I said please?"

"If you did lead us here with hopes of meeting up this girl, then why not tell us your reason for doing so?" Piotr suggested, "If something is wrong, perhaps we can help."

Bobby kept scolding Remy, but offered a more understanding glance towards Piotr as they reached a crosswalk. It was tempting to get it off his chest. He had been keeping it to himself despite the argument he had with Kitty back in Africa. Since they were all so burned out from missions and class, it didn't seem worth getting anyone else involved. Yet Jubilee was still clearly dominating his mind and he wasn't been too subtle about it.

"I appreciate the concern, Piotr. It's nice to know that _some people_ aren't complete assholes on this subject," said Bobby, earning him a look from Remy, "The problem is I'm not sure if there is a problem to begin with. After what happened with Lorna and Kitty, I'm not sure if _any_ reaction I have in my relationships is appropriate."

"Since I was not here to witness those affairs, I won't say a word on them," said Piotr, "Is there a chance that our additional workload has been the cause of the strain?"

"If it were that simple, then wouldn't we all be goin' crazy over our lady friends?" Remy pointed out.

"Since you're such an honest guy, I don't hold it against you for not understanding," quipped Bobby dryly, "I'm actually hoping that's the case because Jubilee hasn't been keeping in touch lately. She keeps telling me nothing's wrong. I'm starting to wonder if she's gotten bored with me."

"You be an X-men and she finds that boring?" laughed Remy, "Them be some messed up standards."

"Well Jubilee is a character, that's for sure," grinned Bobby, "She's also a tough girl to figure out. I like to think I'm not wasting my time with her."

"I don't think you are. If a woman is special to you, then I would say it's definitely worth it," said Piotr with a reassuring tone as they crossed the busy street.

"You be a bit too generous, homme. Since when is figuring out women supposed to be easy?" added Remy.

"Maybe you're just saying that because you can't figure Betsy out anymore and now have gone back to figuring out Rogue again," quipped Bobby, "And we all know how _that_ usually turns out."

Now it was Remy's turn to do the scolding. He struck a nerve with Bobby so it was only natural that he did the same. The issues between with him and Betsy were poorly kept secrets to say the least. Everybody knew that he was meeting up with Rogue on a regular basis even though she was still living with Kurt and the Seftons. Everybody also assumed this did not sit well with Betsy, which caused plenty of tension.

Piotr sensed a bit too much tension and walked in between them once they reached the other side of the crosswalk. The crowded streets of Broadway were hardly a place to have an argument. In addition, the longer they focused on this topic, the more likely it was that Kitty would come up and he was not ready for that conversation.

"I think this is enough relationship talk, yes?" said Piotr, "I thought we were out here to get away from such troubles."

"Tell that to the homme who can't resist playin' with the house's money," said Remy, still scolding Bobby despite an oversized Russian standing between them.

"You dealt the first hand. I just played it," shrugged Bobby.

"Now you be makin' Remy's card puns too?"

"Nobody will be making any of these _puns_ if you two cannot give it a rest," said Piotr in a more menacing tone, "We're in the middle of New York City at a time of fragile peace. The last thing anyone would want to do is cause a commotion."

Remy and Bobby were still staring each other down. Piotr wasn't going to let them bicker no matter how harshly they scolded one another. This helped spare them from the trouble of dealing with a major public scene.

While the two young mutants were fuming, a commotion of another kind broke out not far from where they were standing. It came in the form of a strange man climbing on top of a parked car and yelling out through a bullhorn.

"_Attention citizens of New York. I have an announcement to make that everyone within the range of my voice should hear. This city has just committed an egregious sin that must be answered for. Just this morning, every major New York paper ran an article on mutants and their status in wake of the Genosha treaty. What should have been balanced news was an affront to the will of God! The way in which your city speaks of mutants is nothing short of blasphemous!"_

These thunderous words quickly got Piotr, Remy, and Bobby's attention. Their debates over women and the value of not causing a stir would have to wait. It seemed they were about to find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time yet again.

"Ooh boy, of all the rotten luck," groaned Bobby.

"Remy has a pretty good idea of where this homme is going," said the Cajun.

The three X-men braced for the worst. It did not seem they would get far enough away in time to avoid hearing what this strange man had to say next.

"_Let me read some of the exact words this article used. They called mutants potential threats…dangerous…volatile…flawed…even menacing! Such vile descriptions are completely UNTRUE! These mutants are not threats. They are our salvation and we are rejecting it!"_

Bobby, Remy, and Piotr blinked in disbelief. They looked back at the man and then at each other. There was no way that this man just said what they thought he said.

"Comrade, was _that_ what you expected?" asked Piotr.

"Not in the slightest," said Remy.

"Wait…did a crazy street preacher just say mutants and salvation in the same breath?" said Bobby.

"I think Remy heard it. That don't mean Remy believes it," said the Cajun.

They weren't the only one struck by this man's words. A small crowd started gathering around the man. Many looked just as perplexed as the three X-men. Some were in shock if not flat out disgusted.

Remy, Bobby, and Piotr moved in closer to get a better look. This man didn't come off as the usual street preacher. He was wearing a neatly tailored suit with some unusual-looking emblems sewn onto the shoulders and side. He also had a large golden cross around his neck with a series of elaborate embroiders. It was hard to make out the details, but this guy was definitely a religious man. What he preached, however, was anything but traditional.

"_The media and the government are guilty of the same sin. They are hypocrites in the highest degree. They pretend to want peace, making deals with our mutant saviors by extorting them for profit and power. They sit down with the messengers of the Lord and spit in their faces! Just as the Lord, our God, sent his only begotten son to die for our sins…that same all-loving God sent to us the key to salvation. In the form of blessed blood, we have in our midst the gifted and the holy. And what do we do? We reject them! In this very city, we segregate these blessed souls to a dirty ghetto. In this country we force them onto their own island. In rejecting them, we are rejecting God! We are damning ourselves before the judgment of the Lord!"_

It was a very different sermon regarding religion and mutants. Usually when a preacher talked about mutants, they used words like wicked, monstrous, and demonic. Men like William Stryker made this the mainstream view over this wing of society. This preacher seemed to have another point of view that few knew even existed.

Bobby, Piotr, and Remy sure didn't know. Their shock turned into a more pleasant surprise as they listen to this man yell into his bull-horn. He carried himself with the same conviction of the William Strykers of the world, but without the venomous hatred and calls for war.

"Damn…this guy be alright," said Remy.

"I never thought I'd live to see it," said Bobby, shaking his head in a daze, "A fire and brimstone preacher who _doesn't_ hate mutants."

"Are you sure this is a good thing?" questioned Piotr.

"Are you kidding?" Bobby laughed, "I'd argue this is _way_ overdue!"

While the three X-men appreciated the man's message of mutants and divinity, others in the crowd were not so receptive. Near the front of the crowd, a number of people were getting worked up. A few onlookers gave the man the finger or booed him. Some were a lot more vocal in their criticism.

"You're off your meds, pal! Only a psycho calls mutants saviors," yelled an angry older woman in a thick New York City accent.

"Yeah! Go back to your padded cell!" shouted a young man.

"You're a fucking joke! Mutants are a joke! Get over it!" spat an old man.

Remarkably, the preacher was not dissuaded. Even as some tried rocking the car he was standing on, he held his ground.

"_The will of the Lord will NOT be mocked. I ask all of you out of love and hope for your eternal souls, let go of the lies that others have told you. Embrace our mutant saviors as the followers of Christ embraced the Son of God!"_

His message had a hard time catching on. One middle-aged man with a mustache and a strong build looked especially offended by this impromptu sermon. He was one of the onlookers rocking the car, trying to shake him off. When the preacher made it clear that he was going to hold his ground, the man abandoned any hopes of a peaceful protest and climbed up on the car.

"You're pissing in the wrong pool, reverend!" he spat, "My wife was hospitalized because of the shit mutants pulled with that asteroid. She was an EMT who got beat up by looters because those _monsters_ tried to send the world to Hell!"

The preacher pulled away from his bullhorn and stared down the man with burning hatred in his eyes.

"What did you just call the blessed beings I spoke of?" he said menacingly.

"You heard me. I called mutants _monsters_!" said the man, "That's what they are. That's what they'll always be."

The preacher's expression tensed with rage. The man struck a nerve he probably intended to hit. The response of a normal holy man was to hit back with the worlds of the divine. However, this was no ordinary holy man.

The preacher abandoned his sermon. In a burst of rage he angrily tackled the middle-aged man with impressive strength for his size. Even though the man had nearly fifty pounds of muscle on him, he was caught so off guard by the preacher that he tumbled right onto the hard pavement to the gasps of many onlookers. With plenty still watching, the preacher unleashed a furious assault of alternating punches to the man's face.

"LIAR! INFIDEL! BLASPHEMER! YOU DON'T DESERVE SALVATION! YOU DESERVE DAMNATION!"

It was a shocking sight and one that attracted more attention by the minute. At this point Piotr, Bobby, and Remy realized they could no longer afford to stand and listen. What started as a pleasant surprise had now turned into a dangerous situation.

"I take back what I said about this being overdue," groaned Bobby.

"Remy takes back what he said about this guy bein' alright," added Remy.

"We can take back our sentiment later. We must stop this!" said Piotr.

Using his size and strength, the Russian mutant plowed through the growing crowd with Remy and Bobby following close behind. Some cheered the preacher on. Others were terrified at such a violent outburst. Some tried to force him off his victim, but the man kept fighting. Whether through divine inspiration or madness, he attacked anybody who dared to stop him.

"COME ON! YOU WISH TEST THE STRENGTH MY SOUL?! I WILL FIGHT THIS WHOLE CITY IF I HAVE TO!"

The man he was attacking had long since been knocked out, his face bloodied with significant wounds. Others were trying to get into the act as well. The preacher looked determined to carry out his menacing words. Someone managed to grab him by the neck just as Piotr arrived. Shifting into his metal form, the Russian mutant quickly forced the people away from the preacher and pulled the man away from his victim.

"That's enough!" proclaimed Piotr.

"Everybody back up!" yelled Remy.

The Cajun mutant took out a few cards, charged them, and threw them up in the air so that they gave off a light explosion. It wasn't too much a spectacle, but it did get nearly everyone to back off. It also gave them room to clear up this unusual incident. While they pulled the preacher back onto the sidewalk, Bobby looked over the injured man. It didn't look too serious, but he definitely needed to go to the emergency room. The three X-men soon regained control of the situation. Then they noticed the expression on the preacher's face change to a new extreme.

"Oh heavenly father…" he gasped.

In an instant he went from rage to exuberance. When he looked at Remy and Piotr his legs buckled. Piotr lost his grip on the man and he fell to his knees almost as if he was praying.

"It…it's you! It's really you!" the man cried, "Am I, Isaac, really in the presence of the blessed ones?"

"Easy there, homme. You be having enough fire and brimstone for one day," said Remy.

"Please…oh please forgive me! I was just trying to…I thought…oh Lord, I'm not worthy!"

In another unexpected outburst, the preacher who called himself Isaac shot up and ran past the two X-men at speeds that were every bit as surprising as his preaching.

"Hey wait!" yelled Bobby, who had been looking over the wounded man.

But before Bobby or his two fellow X-men could chase him, Isaac disappeared into the crowd. He didn't have to go far to disappear from sight. Piotr and Remy met up with Bobby and tried to scope him out, but they soon lost him. The mysterious preacher was gone and they still had a wounded man in need of medical attention.

"Whoa…should we go after him?" asked Bobby.

"After the fireworks this fella shot off?" scoffed Remy, "Don't think that would go over well in broad daylight in a city armed with a million cell phone cameras."

"We should probably stick around and help clean this up. I'm sure the Professor would appreciate us sparing him the work," said Piotr.

"Definitely!" affirmed Bobby, "I bet he would also appreciate an explanation. Seriously, what the hell did we just see?"

It was a question none of them were equipped to answer. This was one of those scenarios the Danger Room never prepared them for. This could very well be an isolated anomaly, but in their line of work that was rarely the case. There were some strange and potentially groundbreaking forces at work and the X-men were sure to have a hell of a time figuring this one out.

* * *

**Shaw Industries – Executive Office**

"_Business through power. Power through order. Order through strength."_

The motto of Shaw Industries helped it covertly dominate the business world for the better part of five decades. Since Jacob Shaw, father of Sebastian Shaw and grandfather of Shanobi Shaw, established this enterprise all those years ago, it had grown into something that embodied that motto. They towered over the weak, the chaotic, and the incompetent.

It was the organization that Shanobi Shaw had been groomed since birth to inherit. He worked tirelessly to live up to his father's lofty standards, but it had been an uphill battle. He was an illegitimate offspring that his father sired when he was engaged to another woman. Not only did this break off his engagement, his biological mother died during childbirth. That's what his father told him, but he wouldn't be surprised if there were more devious details involved. Even if that was the case, it didn't change his ambition. If his father wanted to make following in his footsteps a challenge, then Shanobi was more than willing to confront it.

"_Mr. Shaw, sir. Your 12-o-clock has arrived."_

The intercom linking to his father's desk was a constant annoyance now that he was running the company. The young man set aside his current task related to a few mundane billion-dollar deals before answering.

"Send him in," he said after pressing the button.

Shanobi's rose up from his father's chair to meet his associate. It still felt bittersweet, being in this great position of power. He only had these responsibilities because his father was still in a coma. Since the ill-fated ceremony involving the Phoenix Force, his father had undergone numerous treatments. All the doctors gave him the same story. It was unlikely that his father would ever wake up. If that were the case, then Shanobi would never prove himself to his father and that was something he could not accept.

There was still an opportunity to show he had what it took to be worthy of his heritage. In his father's absence, a pressing new challenge had emerged that even his father would have had struggled to address. If Shanobi could take this challenge and turn it into another source of strength, then his father would have no choice but to recognize his efforts. His plans were already underway. When the doors to his opulent office opened, one of his main partners in this affair entered.

"You're a little late, Warhawk," greeted Shanobi in a harsh tone that would have made his father proud.

"You can't even manage a simple hello to your most loyal associate?" said Warhawk dryly.

"Given what I pay you, I'd say I have every right to do so," retorted Shanobi, "Now can we dispense with the pleasantries and get to your report?"

"You're not going to ask if I had any difficulties, did you?"

"Since you can't seem to wipe that snide grin off your face, I'm assuming there were none. Now are you going to tell me or must I utilize some of my father's more _questionable _tactics?"

Warhawk scoffed. This spoiled brat may try to carry himself like his father, but he was a poor imitation of Sebastian Shaw. At least with him, there was never any question about who was tougher. Shanobi assumed respect while his father earned it.

Sebastian Shaw earned Warhawk's respect decades ago when he was a skilled operative in Vietnam. His job put him in a lot of danger and when that danger caught up to him, Shaw was there to pull him out. In the later days of the war, his suffered serious wounds from heavy mortar fire. The only reason he survived was because of some latent mutation that changed the density of his skin in a way that allowed him to take the punishment. His father had the same ability, which helped him become a skilled assassin. Warhawk still wanted that role and Sebastian Shaw came along to help him get it. With the help of some advanced mutant research, his power was expanded. It gave him the strength to carry out various tasks for Shaw as a mercenary. Now he was doing the same for Shanobi.

"This little stunt of yours is working so far," reported Warhawk, "I just returned from Colorado Springs where our old friend, Graydon Creed, is being held."

"What's his status?" asked Shanobi.

"As well as can be expected for a mutant-hating zealot that isn't used to solitary confinement," he replied, "Why you insist on having Wraith break him out is beyond me. Then again, I'm not the one signing the checks."

"You don't need to know the reasons. Assume for the time being that Wraith owes me for providing him the resources he needs for another one of his twisted experiments. I could care less what it involves. What matters to me is how he returns the favor."

"Well he isn't in a position to return anything from what I saw," said Warhawk, "This place is locked up pretty tight. It's underground, it's well-shielded, and it's got enough armed guards to occupy Hanoi. They don't want Creed calling one of his friends or conjuring some old family connections so they're keeping him locked up in the same place they keep other degenerates like that Juggernaut."

"I know their reasons for keeping Creed at bay. While I doubt he would ever thank us for his release, he'll still end up benefiting us once he's free. To do that, I need to ensure that Wraith's people have access to NORAD computer networks."

"No worries there," assured Warhawk, "I bribed those guys you told me about. They were pretty desperate to pay off their loan sharks for gambling on their down time. I didn't even have to threaten them to install those hardware bugs into the network."

"I'm sure you're thrilled," said Shanobi dryly.

"I even had that Ramsey kid test them. He says they're good to go. Although the kid looked like he was ready to snap his own neck."

"Don't worry about our little Cypher. He'll do as he's told. He damn well better."

With this news, Shanobi returned to his desk and did a quick test of his own. His laptop was already wired into the uplinks that Warhawk had placed at NORAD. So far this wasn't nearly as messy as he expected it to be. Working with John Wraith almost always got ugly at some point. That's why he kept him at arm's length. His ambition would be Shanobi's salvation.

After some moderate typing on the computer, Shanobi verified that the uplink to the networks was live. It was still heavily encrypted and surrounded by firewalls that had to be breached. That was not his expertise. That was where Doug Ramsey would play his role. His circumstances were different from Warhawk, but if he knew what was good for him he would deliver.

"Excellent," he said upon completing the test, "It looks like we're ready. Now all we let our old friend, John Wraith, do the work for us."

"That mean you're not sending me to help out?" asked Warhawk.

"Heavens no," scoffed Shanobi, "I could care less if Wraith succeeds. In fact, his failure may actually benefit us more in the long run. All I care about is having his people infiltrate the defense networks. That way my people have a way in."

"Do I even want to know what you'll do with that access?"

"That would fall under the category of Shaw Enterprise Business interests, which I know you find horribly boring."

"Whatever," said Warhawk rolling his eyes.

The skilled mercenary didn't bother probing deeper. He never cared for the logistics of Shaw's plan. All he knew is that whatever he did on these missions, they somehow benefited Shaw Industries. That was good for him because that means the checks he got wouldn't bounce.

"There is one other detail I came across while I was there," said Warhawk, "I'm guessing you already know, but I figure I'll bring it up anyways."

"Go ahead, Warhawk. It's not like my time isn't valuable or anything," said Shanobi dryly as he closed his laptop and reached for a bottle of wine.

"It's the psychic defense issue," he explained, "If I were to do this mission five years ago, then I would have just broken in and placed those uplinks myself. But ever since Magneto and the X-men came onto the scene, everyone with something to hide has invested a shit ton of resources into psychic defense. I'm not sure what Wraith has in mind, but if he overlooks this little detail, then they'll have the entire MSA on their asses."

"Yes, psychic defense are all the rage these days," said Shaw as he calmly poured himself a glass of wine, "Fortunately for Wraith, I have a proverbial wild-card to ensure this operation can progress despite how horribly undermanned those Purifier thugs are."

"Is this another one of those details you're not going to share with me?" said Warhawk.

"For you? Someone who is such a valuable associate to this company and my father? Of course not," he said with an ominous grin.

With a glass in hand, Shanobi tossed the bottle to Warhawk. He instinctively caught it while the younger Shaw retrieved a small remote control from his pocket and pointed it towards the wall to his right. After a few quick commands, a hidden door was opened. Warhawk had seen plenty of hidden surprises in Shaw's dwellings, but this was new to him. He took a quick drink from the bottle and followed Shanobi through the opening where he encountered an unexpected yet visually appealing sight.

"Damn…" said Warhawk with a wry grin.

"I know," said Shanobi as he took a sip of his wine, "My father always had a thing for blondes. Sometimes he couldn't resist mixing his work with his play."

That was as accurate an assessment as anyone could make about Sebastian Shaw. Within the opening were two special gurneys and on them lay two similar-looking figures. They appeared to be young teenage girls with blond hair and a fairly well-developed frame. They were naked except for some special restraints covering around their waist, chest, arms, and feet. Their heads were also covered by a couple of elaborate helmets with a maze of wires running out of the top. These wires ran into a series of high-tech computers that were built around the small room. The function of these machines was hard to determine for anyone not versed in electronics. Whatever they were doing, they kept the two girls completely docile.

"So what's the story? They you're father's jailbait or something?" joked Warhawk.

"That's a bit complicated to explain. The story of their origins is quite an ordeal to say the least, but where they come from isn't nearly as fascinating as what they can do," said Shanobi.

"For a couple of blonds, that sounds pretty sexy."

"Don't get any ideas, Warhawk," said Shanobi in a deathly serious tone, "Their names are Sophie and Esme. They are the telepathic equivalent of an atom bomb. They are how we're going to deal with NORAD's psychic defenses. They are also how we're going to ensure that no matter which side loses, the Shaw legacy will still win."

* * *

**Xavier Institute Dormitories – Scott and Jean's Room**

"The Stepford Cuckoos," said Jean as she looked at the small picture, "Why would they call themselves that?"

"It's not a name I chose, that's for sure," said Emma distantly, "That's the label they were given when they were _born_."

"By Shaw?" said Scott, who was sitting next to Jean on the foot of their bed.

"Who else could be that unimaginative? You already know the long list of ways he hurt me before I joined the X-men. This is just the latest and it was enough to give him the leverage I worked so hard to deny him."

Scott and Jean were speechless. Emma Frost had a long history of secrets. She often reserved some parts of her life, even from those she cared about. This was a secret that finally explained some long-standing questions that had been lingering since she left the X-men. Even with her troubled past, this was pretty bad.

Emma Frost's past had come back to haunt her in a profound way. The man she once knew as the Black King conditioned her with the intent of making her his queen. When she broke away from him, he was not inclined to let her go. So even while she rebuilt her life with the X-men, the man who revealed himself to be Sebastian Shaw found yet another way to hurt her.

It was creative to say the least. He actually went so far as to make partial clones of Emma and artificially aged them into adolescence. They were essentially her daughters. As such, they had a great deal in common with her. And it was these beautiful girls, who had been created out of an act of perverse greed, that drove Emma Frost to betray her closest friends.

"So these girls of yours…Shaw created them from your eggs?" said Jean, choosing her words carefully.

"He did more than that, I'm afraid. When it comes to tormenting people, Sebastian Shaw never does anything half-way," said Emma, who was facing away so they wouldn't see the pained look in her eyes, "Before I even started dancing at the Hellfire Club, he pulled a sneaky little trick on me when I was going through the extensive plastic surgery he paid for."

"What kind of trick?" asked Scott intently.

"The kind made all those birth control talks we had while we were dating a complete waste of time," she said angrily.

"What do you mean?" asked Jean, who put the picture of the Cuckoos down to listen.

"I mean that bastard took _all _my eggs!" she spat, turning around to reveal that she had tears of anguish and anger in her eyes, "During my surgery, the doctors _conveniently_ forgot to tell me that they extracted every egg in my ovaries at Shaw's request. They essentially stripped me of my ability to have children. The only chance I would ever get is through Shaw!"

"So _that's_ the leverage he had over you? That's why you betrayed us?" surmised Jean, now more disgusted with Shaw than before.

"It's worse than that…a lot worse," she said ominously.

Emma fought off more tears. She was too proud to get this emotional. Scott tried to comfort her, but she wouldn't allow it. She didn't deserve his comfort. After what she did to him and the X-men, she didn't deserve any sympathy whatsoever. Yet that was exactly why she was here. She needed them to understand her torment.

"The tragedy of this whole bloody mess is that it worked so damn well," said Emma in a somewhat calmer tone, "I never knew what Shaw did. Far as I was concerned, I was just working my way up into the Inner Circle hierarchy. I'm sure you recall my work as a stripper and high-end escort to the wealthy and privileged."

"Yeah, we uh…don't need to hear the details on that again," said Scott awkwardly, having heard plenty of details from having dated her.

"And while all that was going on, Shaw and his team of overpaid, ethically bankrupt scientists put my eggs to work. They had been working on this cloning program for the past two decades or so. Apparently, they had refined this special process that develops mutant abilities at an accelerated rate. That way the _specimen_ as they call it doesn't have to go through the trouble of growing up and developing it on their own."

"I take it this is what they did to your girls," surmised Jean.

"That was the whole bloody point of what Shaw called the Stepford Cuckoos Project," she said as she recalled the grim details, "My telepathy made my genetics highly desirable. Shaw wanted a high level telepath on his side and if he couldn't have me as his queen, he would settle for the next best thing. That involved tampering with my eggs, getting all the right genetics in place, and creating his own little army of psychics that also happened to be attractive blonds."

"That sounds sick and perverted on a supremely obscene level," said Jean.

"It's Sebastian Shaw. If he's not doing something diabolical with his vast resources, then he's not trying very hard," grumbled Emma, "No one can fault the man for his persistence. He kept pursuing this little project of his even after I blew him off and joined the X-men."

"So at this point you still didn't know?" asked Scott.

"Didn't have a clue," she affirmed, "Far as I was concerned, I was a free, healthy, _fertile_ woman looking to rebuild her life. But Shaw never had any intention of letting me walk away from the Inner Circle without paying a price."

"If he's anything like Selene, I don't doubt that for a second." Said Jean.

"At least Selene doesn't go through the trouble of making torture so damn personal. During my time with the X-men, Shaw developed those girls, accelerating their growth and nurturing their telepathy. Don't ask how they did things like give them personalities, fill in years of lost youth, or teach them how to use their powers. Whatever they did, those girls were being turned into one part machine and two parts Shaw's personal play things."

It struck Emma on a profoundly personal level. Scott and Jean had never seen her look so vulnerable. She was always so good at not letting anyone or anything get under her skin. To see her so worked up was unusual and distressing.

Scott, being one of the few who knew her on a deeper level, offered his consolation. This time she accepted it. She needed it even if she didn't deserve it. He could tell there was more. It was starting to make sense now, going back to her departure from the X-men and the end of their relationship. There were just a few more pieces that hadn't fallen into place.

"So how did this drive you away from the X-men? And _me _for that matter?" asked Scott.

"No need to give me that puppy-dog look, darling. I've no reason to hide it from you anymore," sighed Emma in a calmer tone, "It happened shortly before we broke up. Shaw finally worked up the nerve to come after me. He wasn't very tactful about it either. He called me at two in the morning saying he wanted to speak with me."

"Please tell me you told him off," said the X-leader strongly.

"In ways that would get me fined several times by the FCC," she affirmed, "But Shaw threw in a wildcard. He told me to get my ovaries checked. At first I thought it was just another one of his annoying sexual advances. Then he asked me if I wanted to become a mother one day. It was then I got a sinking feeling like I just ate one of Warren's famous Mexican dinners."

"That bad, huh?" said Jean, who looked back at the picture.

"Bad enough to make me actually listen to that sadistic bastard," grunted Emma, "He even gave me an unlisted number to call as soon as I got the results. I'm sure you remember this day, Scott. It was that day I said I had a personal affair that you couldn't help me with."

Scott vividly recalled that unpleasant moment in his romantic history. It took place at a time when his feelings for Jean were growing, but he still loved Emma enough to try and salvage their relationship. It was a tumultuous period that he spent years struggling to understand. Now it was finally making sense, albeit in a very disturbing way.

"I thought you were mad at me. I thought I did something wrong and you were going over the necessary steps to break up with me," said Scott in a strained tone.

"Oh come now, Scott. You know I've never been able to stay mad at you, no matter how much you tempted me," said Emma as she turned to face her former lover.

"I know how annoying that can be," sighed Jean in agreement.

"The truth is I spent that day at a private OBGYN who I knew from my Hellfire Club days. She agreed, thanks to an extra cash incentive of course, to give me a quick check-up. By the end of the day I had the results. I was barren. Every one of my eggs was gone. I wish I could telepathically broadcast how patently _outraged_ I was at that moment, but I'll spare you the torment."

"We get it. You don't need to go into any further details," assured Jean.

"Good, because I did enough damage to myself afterward," groaned Emma, "I called up Shaw and agreed to meet with him. He had the gall to actually have me meet him at a fancy restaurant where he once took me out on a date. I cornered him and demanded to know what he did to me. The son-of-a-bitch wouldn't stop smiling when he told me all the graphic details. I was ready to end him where he stood. That's when he showed me pictures of my girls."

"So that's how he played you. He had your daughters under his control and could do whatever he wanted with them if you didn't dance to his tone," Jean summarized, not hiding her disgust of such a tactic.

"You're a smart woman, Jean. Even if you can only stand to be somewhat sympathetic to your lovers ex," replied Emma.

"You may be my lover's ex, but you're still my friend, Emma. I haven't forgotten that," said Jean.

"Then try, if you can, to imagine how I felt when I finally looked the bastard in the eyes and learned the awful truth. This was Shaw's way of getting back at me. He said that these girls were his telepathic soldiers and he could easily have them tormented, abused, or damaged in any way he saw fit. He claimed he was willing to give them the benefit of knowing their mother. I honestly didn't believe for a second that he meant it. But for the sake of saving the last piece of my own flesh and blood, I had to listen to him."

"And _that's_ why you left the team. Shaw demanded it," Scott surmised.

"Among other things," she sighed, "You know what happened next. You and I broke up. I told the X-men I was leaving. And I moved to New York City to start my own hedge fund. Nearly all of it was under Shaw's direction."

"But why would he want that?" wondered Jean.

"It's purely strategic. He wanted me out of the X-men so I couldn't turn to you for help. If I reached out to you or anybody for that matter, my girls would suffer. It was his way of punishing me. The only way I was going to live was on my own, wallowing in self-pity. I didn't know what to do so I tried to make the most of it. I made as much money as I could and tried to buy myself out of misery."

"I won't bother asking how that worked out," said Jean, rolling her eyes.

"You have as much appreciation for Gucci purses as I do, Jean. Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same," said Emma in a coarse tone, "After leaving the X-men, I had to live every day knowing I was living with Sebastian Shaw's sick shadow always looming nearby. He kept those girls as leverage all that time, only sending me pictures and videos to keep me in line. He was saving it for when he needed my help. That time came with the Phoenix affair. You both know how that ended so I'd rather not get into it."

Emma pulled away again and retrieved the picture from Jean. The truth had finally come out. There was nothing left for her to reveal in terms of secrets and lies. The onus was now on Scott and Jean to process it all.

Thinking back to the Phoenix affair, Scott and Jean had plenty of reasons to hold a grudge against Emma. She was supposed to be their friend. In Scott's case, she was someone he had been deeply in love with. Her betrayal hit them pretty hard. Now that they had an explanation, there were a lot of mixed feelings between them. This revelation about Shaw and the Cuckoos didn't completely absolve her, but it did offer insight into her actions.

Whatever happened in the past could not be changed. Everything had been neatly laid out for them. The next move was theirs. For a moment, the two lovers stared at each other. They didn't even need to exchange thoughts. The look in their eyes revealed that they were already on the same page.

"What do you want from us, Emma?" asked Jean, "You barge into the mansion unannounced, sneak into our bedroom, and drop all this on us. There is a reason for it, isn't there? I know you didn't just come to ask for forgiveness."

"That's assuming I want and deserve it," retorted Emma, "Trust me, I'm a long ways way from forgiveness. I can tell from your thoughts that you're still pissed at me."

"Emma don't," said Scott with more sincerity in his tone.

"That's a debate for another day, darling. You of all people should know I usually have an ulterior motive. This is no different."

"Hopefully, that means it's not as devious as before," quipped Jean.

"Since I'm still feeling pretty lousy about myself, I'll choose to ignore that," said Emma with restrained resentment, "Me telling you about the Stepford Cuckoos were only minor reasons for this little visit. The bigger reason I've chosen this moment to confront you is because…I need your help."

Scott and Jean were taken aback. They certainly weren't expecting that. Emma seized upon their silence to show them the picture of the three girls that shared her blood. She held it up so it was right in front of their faces, grasping it with almost a desperate grip.

"These three girls you see here…there should be two more," said Emma with more strain in her voice.

"Two more? You mean…" Jean began.

"Yes…Shaw still has two of my girls," she affirmed, "Shortly after the Inner Circle was defeated, I _questioned_ the surviving members of the Inner Circle. I learned of the secret facility where Shaw was keeping them. I enlisted the help of a few old contacts to rescue them. But when I reached them, I only found these three. He kept two more, Esme and Sophie, at a separate facility."

"Where? Do you know where he's hiding them?" asked Scott with a sense of urgency.

"I discovered that very fact earlier today," she revealed, "While Sebastian may be in a coma, his bastard son is keeping my girls in his corporate headquarters. Since Shanobi likes to outdo his father in everything, including my ongoing torment, I have to get them out. But I can't do that alone. I need help from the only two people I can trust."

"Your ex-boyfriend and the woman who's currently sleeping with him?" questioned Jean.

"It's pathetic, I know. You can mock me later. As I speak Sophie and Esme are in Shanobi's clutches. Mindee, Phoebe, and Celeste are back at my Academy of Tomorrow staying in psychic contact with them. They're in pain because Sophie and Esme are in pain. And as their mother of sorts, I need to stop that pain. Now are you going to help me rescue them or not?"

Scott and Jean stared at the picture for a moment. Emma Frost was asking a lot of them. She was urging them to overlook her betrayal and help her in a time of great need. That was a lot to work through in such a short period of time.

Emma's transgressions aside, this did not change the danger facing these unfortunate girls. The X-men had clashed with Shaw enough times to know that whatever he had planned, it was something that the X-men needed to stop. Scott and Jean were never one to hold much of a grudge anyways. The Professor always emphasized humility with his X-men, even with those that had wronged them. This was the deciding factor in their decision to help Emma Frost.

"I'll go tell the Professor we'll have to make up class over the weekend. I'll also give Warren a call. He knows more about Shaw Industries than any of us," said Jean, making only brief eye-contact with Emma before making her way out of the room.

"Did I miss the part where you two were polite enough to say yes?" said Emma with a half-grin.

"Did you really expect us to blow off a friend, lover, and former X-man?" said Scott with a friendly gesture, "Believe it or not, there are people who still care about you, Emma. We're going to help you no matter how cynical you are."

The tension finally eased within the powerful telepath. The warm comfort offered by Scott Summers was a welcome feeling. It reminded her of why she fell in love with him in the first place. It also reminded her that X-men were heroic in more than just deeds. Their capacity to forgive and assist those close to them was still unmatched.

"Follow me," said Scott, taking her by the arm and leading her out of the room, "Let's get your old uniform out of storage. As of this moment, you're an X-man again."

* * *

**Colorado Springs – Secret Prison**

"They'll never stop coming. They'll always be a threat to us. They'll always be ready to strike us…ready to doom us. Humanity is becoming extinct."

"Damn it, Creed! Will _please_ you shut the hell up?" exclaimed a disgruntled prison guard, "It's bad enough I got assigned to guard you. Don't make it worse with your mutant hating psycho-babble. Even Juggernaut wasn't this much of a pain."

This spiteful outburst was the closest thing to normal human interaction that Graydon Creed had anymore. His options being so limited, he had to take what he could get. Life in prison for someone convicted of domestic terrorism, fraud, and gross corporate misconduct was practically an inner circle of Hell.

It had been months since Graydon Creed was hauled away by police as a result of the District X fiasco. His sentinel project, which included the unfortunate mishap with Captain Sebastian Gilberti, turned him from a visionary to a monster.

His ultimate weapon against mutants turned into a nightmare. Captain Gilberti became the half-machine, fully unstable persona known as Bastion. His attack on District X wasn't seen as a stand against the mutant threat. It was seen as an attack on innocent civilians that caused wide-spread property damage. Instead of being the saviors of humanity, he and his Friends of Humanity were seen as common terrorists.

It was a mortal blow made all the more difficult by Worthington Industries betrayal. Before he could even try to cover his tracks, Warren Jr. and that brat of his blew the lid on the whole operation. Such revelations not only turned the public against him, it provided more than enough evidence for a federal judge to indict him on domestic terror charges. That was a serious charge that landed him in highly secure, highly secretive prison meant for what were officially designated as _special case inmates_. Lobbyists from Worthington Industries probably didn't help his case either. Even with his family fortune, he was a broken man with little hope of accomplishing his vision for humanity.

"Do you believe in destiny?" Graydon found himself asking the guard outside his cell.

"Creed, you're making me seriously reconsider the limits imposed on me by the Geneva Convention," said the disgruntled guard.

"Perhaps I should phrase it another way. Do you believe in duty?" he asked, ignoring the attitude he was getting, "I assume you have some sense of duty. You wear that uniform so proudly. You should. You're serving your country and your fellow man."

"Thirty seconds, Creed. That's how much longer I'm going to tolerate your bullshit," said the guard.

"I ask because all men have a capacity for duty. Far fewer have an inclination. For years, my only duty was to protect the human race. I had the tools, the money, and the motivation to do more than your average citizen. I ask you as a man of duty, is it such a crime to merely do what you feel destiny has beckoned?"

The guard was silent. He was facing away from the cell so Creed couldn't tell if his words had any impact. Judging by his demeanor, he definitely struck a chord.

That was the only vindication Graydon needed. His life was now confined to this sterile, ten by twelve foot cell. There were no traditional windows with bars. Instead, there was a barrier of bulletproof glass with small air-holes that kept him from the outside world. Every day he woke up on a small bed with a small toilet and sink across from him. It was a cell that was horribly unfit for a defender of the human species.

"Lunch time, Creed," said the guard, finally breaking his silence.

Graydon smirked at the guard's flat tone. Even in a prison cell, he could get under the skin of those who stood against him. He knew the world was still fearful of mutants. He heard mumblings of President Kelly's election, the Cambrian affair, the Mutant Security Agency, and Magneto's disappearance. There seemed to be a place for a man like him. If only he were still a visionary and not accused terrorists, he could fill that role.

A series of horns sounded around the cell, indicating that the lunch compartment was about to be opened. Since Creed was deemed too dangerous to dine with other inmates, they had to be delivered through a special slot in the side of the cell. The guards watched his every move and that of the one delivering the food, which usually consisted of a small tray of moderate staples. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. However, the guard did not seem to recognize the uniformed figure delivering the food.

"You new here or something?" the guard asked as he checked the tray.

"Filling in for Stan. That truck of his broke down again," said the figure, who seemed a bit young for a job in this area.

"Damn it, I warned him about that thing. I don't care if it's a classic. If it runs like shit it ain't that classy," sighed the guard.

"Mind if we hurry this up? I'm pulling double duty in the meantime."

"Yeah sure," the guard shrugged, "Figure Stan owes us both anyways. Just drop it in the bin and don't make too much eye contact. Creed is in another one of his moods."

The figure nodded casually and slipped the tray into the slot. He then pushed a small buzzer to indicate it was safe to close the compartment. Once confirmed, the compartment opened up on Creed's side and his meal was presented to him.

However, before the figure left, he ignored that small bit of advice the guard gave him. For a brief moment, he gazed towards Graydon Creed through the glass in his cell. In that tiny window of time, he gave the man an ominous grin. When Creed saw this he was confused. Most everyone who came his way never looked at him, let alone grinned. It sparked his curiosity in a way it hadn't been in quite some time.

"Eat up, Creed. At least with food in your mouth, you can't spew your bullshit," said the guard.

"Salisbury steak and cream corn," scoffed Creed, "Like that will silence a hardened soul."

With more intrigue than usual, Graydon retrieved the tray and sat down on his bed. He made sure he was facing away from the guard. There was no real reason for it. He was just listening to his instincts at this point. For a moment he just stared at his tray as if there was some secret to this bland excuse for a meal. Nothing seemed too extraordinary, but that grin from the figure indicated there had to be something amiss.

'_Hmm…I wonder.'_

Creed found himself taking the biscuit that was included with the meal. It looked no different than usual. So in his curiosity, he bit into it. As soon as he did, he found something. There was something baked right into the food. Carefully and without drawing too much attention from the guard, Creed opened the biscuit to retrieve what appeared to be a small slip of folded paper. He eagerly opened it up to find that it had a message printed on it.

"_Sometimes a nightmare is worst just before you wake up. Eat up, relax, and take a nice nap Mr. Creed. This time you may end up in a much nicer place._

_PS: You may want to dispose of this note along with your biscuit if you wish to sleep soundly."_

It was the first time in many months that Graydon Creed smiled. He proceeded to eat the rest of his meal, carrying on as if nothing was amiss. Being in a prison cell usually gave little reason to be excited. But now he had reason to believe that he may yet fulfill his duty to the human race.

* * *

**Up next: Prison Break**


	3. Issue 100: Prison Break Part 1

**Issue #100  
Prison Break Part 1**

* * *

_In a world that hates and fears mutants, Professor Charles Xavier and the X-men fight for peace and understanding. For years they have had many challenging confrontations with the likes of Magneto, the Cambrian, the Friends of Humanity, and the Phoenix Force. Their struggle has gained various complications along the way, leading to an entirely new set of challenges that are not easily confronted._

_After Magneto's attack with the Cambrian, humans and mutants were on the brink of war. However, war was averted when the X-men helped Wanda Maximoff strike a deal. Now Genosha is exporting alien technology that has led to immense economic growth throughout the world. The burden has fallen upon the X-men and the newly formed Mutant Security Agency to regulate this exchange so that prosperity thrives and conflict is wanes._

_While this deal benefits many, there are those seeking its destruction. Colonel John Wraith is trying to rebuild Weapon X with the help of Reverend William Stryker. Having enlisted the resources of Shanobi Shaw and an advanced hacker, Arcade, they are ready to proceed with the next phase of their plan._

* * *

**Genosha – South Coast**

From the cloudy skies over Genosha, a single metal orb descended towards one of the most active sites on the island. This was once a run-down fishing port. Now it had become the most important shipping hub in the world. This was where the majority of Genosha technology was exported in accord with the peace treaty. This was also where Wolverine would carry out his new assignment.

The orb landed in a small clearing inside the outer security barriers of the port. As soon as it touched down, the top part opened and the former living weapon stepped out. He wore his X-men uniform for the first time after a long absence. After months of self-loathing and heavy drinking, Wolverine was ready to be an X-man again. As he stepped out he was greeted by two figures that may give him a different reason to drink.

"Welcome back to Genosha, Wolverine. I can tell you're just _so thrilled_ to be here again," greeted an exceedingly sarcastic Pietro Maximoff.

"Cut the attitude, quickie. I ain't here on a pleasure cruise. I'm here to work, something I'm sure is an alien concept to you," growled a grumpy Wolverine.

"You're one to talk. You never struck me as the most dedicated member of the X-men," said Alex Summers, who shared the speedster's lack of enthusiasm.

"For being such a prick, you strike me as someone worthy of the Summers name so I guess that makes us even," retorted Wolverine, "Now are we gonna stand around busting each other's balls or are we gonna make this work? This dump is a lot bigger than last time so I need to know what I'm working with."

The idea of having to deal with Wolverine had little appeal to say the least. Neither Pietro nor Alex cared for the X-men much to begin with and making Wolverine their new security consultant was definitely one of Charles Xavier's more questionable decisions. However, Wanda already signed off on it so they didn't have a choice.

"Follow me," said Alex assertively, "I'll give you a quick tour of the new shipping docks."

"Make it quicker if you can. I'm already getting a lot of suspicious scents here and it ain't just quickie's god-awful cologne," said Wolverine.

"So says the guy who arrives on _our home_ smelling like a mix of wet dog and cheap beer?" spat Pietro, "For your information, some of us actually care about how we present ourselves. As public figures, you should know that."

"Whatever pretty boy," said Logan, rolling his eyes, "I almost prefer the smell of your sister on blondie here. Guy practically reeks of her, especially in the basement if you know what I mean."

Pietro cringed at Wolverine's remark. His eye actually twitched. The idea of Alex dating Lorna still did not sit well. When confronted with lurid details, it was enough to stop him cold. And for a guy like Quicksilver, that was saying something.

Alex was only a little put off by the feral mutant's comments, but he actually chuckled upon seeing Pietro's reaction. As much as he disliked the X-men, he appreciated anybody who could silence Pietro Maximoff.

"Keep making comments like that and I may start hating you less, Wolverine," chuckled Alex.

"Don't get used to it, bub."

"I don't intend to. But anything you can do to make this situation more bearable is fine by me," said the younger Summers brother.

While Pietro fumed, Alex led Wolverine into the heart of Genosha's busiest port. They had a lot of ground to cover. Wolverine was very out of place and had to be on his guard. In a ways that was a good thing because he couldn't dwell his many other problems. If he was lucky, he would find something to stab while on this trip. On a place like Genosha, there was always a chance that something would go horribly wrong.

* * *

**Skies Over Colorado Springs**

"_Bearing north at 350 knots. Settling into steady circular patrol. Uplinks active and streaming on encrypted frequency. Entering radio silence."_

The reports from the ground were coming in. The airspace over Colorado Springs was relatively clear on this moonless night. Over the major military zones, all commercial and private air-traffic was tightly controlled. The lone exception was an unarmed C-130 gunship bearing the official markings of the United States Military. However, the activity inside was anything but official.

Aboard the aircraft, Colonel Wraith and Reverend William Stryker prepared to initiate this ambitious operation to free Graydon Creed. With them was a squad of twenty elite Purifiers. Each operative was in full body-suits, masked from head to toe, and armed with unmarked automatic weapons. They sat near the back of the aircraft, ready to receive their orders.

Near the front of the aircraft was a large computer array in place of the weapons systems. This array was assembled and managed through a central interface where Arcade sat ready to work his magic. Next to him were three technicians huddled over a circular device that was about the size of a beach ball. This device was first major component in this operation.

"We've got confirmation from NORAD. The clock has officially started," said Colonel Wraith.

"So as far as the military is concerned, this is an officially sanctioned test ordered by the Air Force?" said Reverend Stryker.

"With my limited influence, this is the best we can manage. That means our margin for error is smaller than I hoped," said the Colonel.

"How much time does that give us?" asked Arcade.

"Depending on whether the chief in Air Traffic Control needs a smoke break…thirty minutes at the most."

"More than enough time," said Arcade confidently, "Thanks to the uplinks from Mr. Shaw, I've got a full layout of facility down to where they keep their porno stash."

"And you're certain this Mr. Shaw you've been talking to is dependable?" questioned Reverend Stryker.

"He has a vested interest in our success. That's the best incentive we can hope for, provided the equipment Agent Zero stole will suffice."

All their attention turned towards the technicians working next to Arcade. They had been typing non-stop since they took off. They were engineers who used to work for Weapon X, but were out of a job since Wraith got demoted. This offered extra motivation for them to get this device ready despite the unreasonable demands of this mission.

"Right now we're still iffy, Colonel," said the first engineer, "There's a reason we asked for more than one power cell. The energy you're asking to release in this EMP bomb is unknown territory."

"Since so much of this complex is underground, we've had to sacrifice some stability and precision. That means that when this thing goes off, it's going to have a much louder bang and we can't guarantee it will go unnoticed or even be effective," said the other engineer.

"I'm not nearly as concerned with stealth as I am with effectiveness. Can one cell still do the job?" asked Wraith.

"If detonated at just the right level and with just the right timing…yes, it will work. But the systems inside this facility are designed to recover from EMPs bursts. Since this blast is going to be weaker than we planned, you'll be lucky to have half the time we said you would to override the network before the firewalls reactivate."

"You make it sound like that's still not long enough," scoffed Arcade, "So long as those firewalls lag behind the actual system for more than a few seconds, I'll be able to work my digital magic!"

"In that case spare me the additional concerns," said Colonel Wraith sternly, "Our time is limited. If the device is ready, set the timer and put it in place."

The engineers had no room to argue. Using the advanced technology from Genosha was always a challenge. The rules and limits of old technology didn't apply. That allowed them to pack a lot of firepower into a small device. Even with that technology, they were going to need a certain amount of luck for this to work.

After a few more tweaks, the engineers activated the device and moved it into position with the help of a few Purifiers. In a compartment where a high-caliber artillery cannon usually resided, they placed the bomb on a special release mechanism. The burden now fell upon Arcade to time the drop perfectly and the two pilots up front to keep the aircraft steady.

"This may sound odd coming from a man of science, but now would be a good time to start praying," said one of the engineers.

"Who needs prayer when you have computers like this?" grinned Arcade, "I programmed that thing myself. You guys just put it together. There's no need for miracles."

"The drop-point is fifteen seconds away," reported Wraith, "Barring any unforeseen turbulence, we should have a clear shot."

"Feels like my own Death Star run in Star Wars," said the confident hacker, "Tell those pilots to use the Force because this is going to be a hell of a shot."

"You worry about the timing. I'll worry about my Purifiers," said Reverend Stryker, "As soon as we get confirmation of the attack, we'll deploy."

"Then the easy part begins!" grinned Arcade.

Confidence and tensions ran high within the plane. Everybody got into position. Stryker headed to the back in preparation to give the orders to his Purifiers while Colonel Wraith made his way to the cockpit to instruct the pilots. Arcade had the honor of flipping the proverbial switch. The time was fast approaching. This ambitious operation was set to begin.

The next few moments ticked by painfully slowly. The pilots in the front, who also happened to be associates of Colonel Wraith, steadied the aircraft as much as their instruments would allow. The Purifiers waited intently while the technicians held their breath. On one of the many computer screens in Arcade's computer array, there was a timer imposed over a satellite map of their position. Every factor had to be taken into account from the wind to the plane's forward momentum. Since this drop had to be exceedingly accurate, the launch had to be perfect. As the clock ticked down, the main pilot in the cockpit announced their approach.

"We're approaching the coordinates," he said with his hands firmly on the controls, "Nearing drop point in 5…4…3…2…1."

At the precise moment when the clock hit zero, Arcade entered the command. From the side of the plane, a lone turret opened up and the small metal sphere shot out into the abyss.

"Bombs away! I always wanted to say that," grinned Arcade.

"How long until detonation?" asked Reverend Stryker from the rear of the plane.

"9.2 seconds precisely! Deploy your men no more than five seconds after," he answered.

Stryker nodded and gave the signal to his men, who gave him the thumbs up from the compartment below that would soon open and exposed them to the elements. Time continued to move by painfully slow as Arcade tracked the device through its descent.

"Approaching the complex…looks like we're gonna cut it close!" said Arcade intently.

"Is it still close enough?" asked Wraith as he emerged from the cockpit.

"Only one way to find out!"

The talented hacker didn't even blink as he watched the tracking signal on another computer screen. The timer was live, but he still had to steer it. The digital map on the screen kept narrowing the field-of-vision as the bomb approached. It was like a video game, but without the reset button. Arcade waited until the last possible moment. Once it arrived, he hit another button on his console and the device detonated.

"We have detonation!" he announced.

"Do we have a confirmed pulse?" asked Wraith.

"With energy readings like these, we damn well better!" said Arcade.

"But was it enough?" asked one of the technicians.

It was hard to tell because this device was not meant to explode. An EMP was meant to cripple rather than destroy. Arcade prepared to do an assessment. That ended up being unnecessary because the lights within the aircraft flickered and controls of the aircraft became unstable for a moment.

"Whoa there! We just got some major interference," said the pilot.

"Guess that answers that," grinned Arcade, "The blast was directed downward, so our systems are still up. That can only mean one thing."

"Everybody in that prison complex is just starting to shit themselves," Wraith surmised, "That means we're ready to make our move."

"Already on it! I'll jack the network as soon as it boots back up," announced Arcade.

"My Purifiers will take care of the rest," announced Stryker, "Provided that _friend_ of yours delivers what he promised, Colonel."

"Have faith, Reverend. It is your greatest strength. I trust you know what to do."

Reverend Stryker nodded and turned towards his elite Purifiers in the compartment below. There was no time for a rousing sermon. With one commanding gesture, Stryker pulled a special latch that opened the rear compartment to the plane. This allowed a sudden rush of cold air into the lower levels. Without hesitation, the twenty elite Purifiers leaped into the darkness of the night and descended towards the prison complex below.

"Godspeed, my holy soldiers," mused Reverend Stryker, "Our crusade against the wicked will _not_ be stopped, no matter what obstacles the devil puts in our path!"

* * *

**Downtown Manhattan – Outside Shaw Industries Corporate Headquarters**

New York City was as active at night as it was in the day. Getting around this bustling metropolis was challenging enough. Getting around with any anonymity was next to impossible. Yet stealth was exactly what Cyclops, Phoenix, and Emma Frost were going to need in order to complete this mission.

"We're here," said Cyclops from the driver's seat of a rented van.

"About bloody time," groaned an impatient Emma Frost, "You know we could have taken the X-van. We didn't have to rent this unsightly thing."

"It's not our fault the rental place only had an old Chevy in stock," said Phoenix, "Besides, the X-van sticks out like a sore thumb. Shaw would see it coming a mile away."

Even if it was tactically sound, it didn't make sitting in this thing any more comfortable for Emma Frost. It may have been more than just the van. Being in this part of Manhattan brought back many bad memories. They had just passed in front of the imposing building that housed Shaw Enterprises.

It wasn't one of the more iconic buildings that dominated the city skyline. It had no distinguishing features, bearing the cold aesthetics of a standard rectangular skyscraper. People passed in and out of it every day, most of whom probably had no idea of the horrors Shaw conjured with his vast resources.

'_So here I am…the very place where I nearly sold my soul for a quick buck. Doesn't look like much has changed. I'll bet Sebastian has found plenty of ways to turn it into the fifteenth circle of Hell.'_

'_Guess that makes the three of us angels?'_

'_Keep your thoughts to yourself, Jean. I'm not in the mood for a psychic debate.'_

Phoenix, who was sitting next to Emma in the back seat, kept her mind and her mouth shut as they drove into the parking garage of the adjacent building. Getting inside Shaw Industries was not going to be easy. Based on the capabilities Sebastian Shaw demonstrated in the past and what Emma told them about her captive girls, they were probably dealing with a very secure building. Getting them out was going to require some skill, cunning, and a bit of luck.

Cyclops navigated through the parking garage, making his way towards the lowest possible level. Along the way Phoenix used her cell phone to get in touch with Angel, who was providing them with some additional information on Shaw Industries through Worthington Industries networks.

"Warren just sent me the layout of the building," she said as she went over the data, "He says there should be a utility door at lowest level of this garage. It doesn't lead directly into Shaw's building so we'll have to knock down a few walls."

"That's not going to be a problem," said Cyclops, making a quick adjustment to his visor, "My main concern is locating these girls through Shaw's overpriced security systems. I remember Warren saying how Shaw locks down his building. Even Cerebrum couldn't penetrate the shielding this guy has employed."

"Lucky for us, we have something better than Cerebrum," said Emma, "Head to the end of the east wing and I'll show you."

"I'm sure this will be a sight to behold," said Phoenix as she put her phone away.

Emma shot her fellow psychic and former teammate an annoyed scowl. She might not be reading her thoughts, but she had that attitude again. It was the same attitude she had when they started clashing while Emma was still with the X-men. Despite Phoenix's willingness to help, there was still plenty of lingering tension between them.

"I thought we agreed to dispense with the personal grudges at least for this mission," she said.

"We are. The mission hasn't officially begun yet," Phoenix pointed out.

"Now you're using technicalities? Real cute, Jean," scoffed Emma, "Are you being this rude because you're still bitter about the betrayal I've so thoroughly explained and apologized for? Or is sitting next to your boyfriend's ex really _that _unsettling?"

"Could you girls _please_ skip the catfight and focus on the mission? It's probably better if you take out all this lingering hostility on Shaw," said an exasperated Scott Summers.

"You know there are so many perverse ways Iceman could argue that point if he were here," quipped Phoenix.

"It probably involves bikinis and a mud pit," added Emma.

"Well Iceman isn't here! And if the two of you are serious about this mission, you'll ditch your past bitterness aside and focus on the task at hand!"

It may have been the only time in history when a heterosexual man stopped two beautiful women from going at it. Jean was hardly surprised while Emma was more surprised than she should have been. Scott Summers was still the same dedicated man she once loved so deeply. He hadn't lost that dedication, even after she broke his heart and betrayed the X-men.

Looking back at Jean and then back towards Scott, Emma Frost felt a rare twinge of powerlessness. Scott was once her lover and was still the best man she had ever known. Jean was once her friend who had the good fortune to fall in love with that same man. Those feelings were not easy to work around.

Whatever conflicting emotions Emma harbored, she maintained her focus. As she argued with her ex and his lover, Esme and Sophie were in pain. She could feel it in her gut. It may have been that latent maternal instinct that Emma never thought she would experience. Just being this close to Shaw Industries was enough to make her stomach churn in ways that made her worry for her girls. She managed to hold her disgust back as the van pulled up to the east wing. Near the end of the parking lot, they saw another van that had already parked in the corner.

"We're here. That's them over there," said Emma, pointing from the back seat.

"Exactly how much did you tell them?" asked Cyclops as circled the van around the final curb.

"They're students, Scott. Just as we once were," she said, "They still have a lot to learn and I've made it clear that certain details of this mission are well-above their grade level."

"So why are you bringing your top students so close the danger like this?" asked Phoenix.

"Before you start chastising my teaching abilities, why don't you meet them first?" Emma retorted, "I've taught these aspiring young mutants and I can verify their capabilities. Think of them as our _X-Factor_."

Phoenix resisted the inclination to question Emma's tactics. Cyclops gave her that distinct glare of his that helped remind her of the benefits of getting along with Emma. This was her mission. She was the one that organized this partnership between them and these new students of hers. She had talked about them a bit during their drive into the city. She spoke pretty highly of them, describing them as their own X-team of sorts. It remained to be seen whether or not that title was rightly earned.

As soon as the van pulled up, they exited the vehicle. Emma then signaled her students to carry out their role. Their van was slightly larger than the one they rented. It had much more space in the middle. From the side facing them, the sliding door was opened in several new figures stepped out.

"We're ready, Miss Frost! We have everything you told us to bring," said a young man with short blond hair and a Kentucky accent.

"Is this all the backup you told us about? I thought you said we would get to meet the X-men!" said another young man with a tanned, South American complexion.

"Don't get too star struck, Roberto. I never said you would meet the _whole_ team. You'll have to settle for these two," said Emma, gesturing towards Cyclops and Phoenix.

"Gee, thanks for making us sound like a consolation prize," said Phoenix dryly.

"Of course. But where are my manners?" said Emma with equal sarcasm, "Cyclops and Phoenix, I'd like for you to meet Roberto DaCosta, Sam Guthrie, Julian Keller, and Noriko Ashida. These young and overly eager mutants represent the top class of the Academy of Tomorrow."

"Wait, I thought we were going by codenames," complained Norkio, a young Asian teen with bright bluish hair.

"Yeah, we're supposed to be Sunspot, Cannonball, Hellion, and Surge," said Julian, who stepped out with Noriko to meet the X-men.

"You're giving them codenames already?" commented Cyclops.

"Just following Charles's example," shrugged Emma, "Is it so wrong to honor my X-men heritage?"

Phoenix held back another remark, another urging from Cyclops helping remind her that these students of Emma's were an important part of this mission. Having been students themselves, it was someone striking to see these young mutants so eager to follow in the footsteps of the X-men.

However, they certainly wouldn't be mistaken for full-fledged X-men. Sam, Roberto, Julian, and Noriko still had the look of regular students. They weren't in uniforms. Instead, they worse the same clothes they probably wore to class that day. Emma gave them a brief rundown on these gifted youngsters on their ride in. Like the X-men, they all had unique mutant abilities that Emma was training them to use. Sam could form energy around his body to _blast_ as he called, allowing him to become invulnerable and fly through the air. Roberto could channel solar energy into his body, thus granting him enhanced strength and durability. Julian was a mid to upper level telekinetic who was proficient enough with his psionic gifts to be capable of flight at high speeds. Noriko had the power go generate large fields of electricity and channel them into lighting blasts. It was a pretty strong skill see, but they were raw in the sense that they had not learned how to utilize their gifts to their full potential.

"Are you really just going to have us stand watch?" asked Julian, "You've been training us to face the dangers in this rotten world. Do you really think we're not ready?"

"Not in the way you need to be, Mr. Keller," said Emma strongly, "The lot of you haven't been training for more than a few months. You may be the most noteworthy students to enter my academy, but being a good novice is a long ways away from even being a poor amateur."

"Is _this _how you motivate your students?" questioned Phoenix.

"I'd answer that, but since most of us were kicked out of every other school we've been to, don't expect us to take chances," said Noriko.

"Or provoke a powerful telepath for that matter," added Sam.

They clearly respected Emma's authority and seemed to fear it to an extent. Scott and Jean may still have their concerns, but Emma trusted her influence on these young mutants to be sufficient for this mission.

"We can discuss my methods later. How are my girls doing?" she asked firmly.

"They seem to be doing fine, but it's always hard to tell. We haven't heard a peep out of them since we left," said Roberto.

"We did just as you asked. See for yourself before you exercise some of those methods," said Julian.

Sam, Roberto, Noriko, and Julian stepped aside so that Emma could see into the van along with Cyclops and Phoenix. Julian used his telekinesis to pull the doors all the way back so they could see three identical figures sitting side-by-side in the back seat.

It was the first time Cyclops and Phoenix saw Emma's _daughters_ in person. They looked every bit as similar to her as their picture implied. They were like three teenage versions of Emma Frost. They bore her bright blond hair, her well-developed feminine physique, and some fairly well-endowed curves. Each was wearing the same outfit, which consisted of a white body-suit that was similar to Emma's old X-men uniform. It wasn't as revealing, but they definitely shared Emma's style.

What was nearly as striking as their appearance was what they had on their heads. Each one of them was sitting very still, wearing a series minature Cerebro helmets. They were emitting a steady hum, indicating that they were quite active. And whatever they were doing, they were utilizing a lot of psionic energy.

"Wow…they really are the apple of their mother's eye," commented Cyclops.

"Only to a degree hopefully," said Emma distantly.

"That hardware looks pretty familiar? Is this what I think it is, Emma?" asked Phoenix.

"Charles taught me to work Cerebro just as I'm sure he taught you. Part of that process was understanding how it worked. The other part involved reaching into the deep pockets that only a former hedge fund manager could afford. It allowed me to craft these compact versions of Cerebro. I find them useful, and in some cases necessary, in providing that extra telepathic push."

"Is it enough push for three teenage telepaths to penetrate the psychic shielding Shaw has in place?" questioned Phoenix, using her own telepathy to assess the level of telepathic activity.

"The Stepford Cuckoos are a hive mind. They're all connected in a way that's unique even to telepaths," Emma explained, "When one of them feels something, the others feel it as well. The same goes for Esme and Sophie. Even a stronger psychic with the aid of a Charles Xavier or the Phoenix Force could not detect them as well as their own sisters."

It seemed logical. At the same time it was somewhat ominous. These girls weren't just Emma's daughters. They were a unique telepathic talent, forged from the perverse madness of Sebastian Shaw. That left a lot of room for something to go terribly wrong.

That dread manifested a lot sooner than expected. Without warning, the three young girls were jolted from their meditative state. They started groaning and shifting uncomfortably. It was as if some unseen force was attacking them.

"Miss Frost! We can feel our sisters. They're…in pain," they said simultaneously.

"Damn you, Shanobi!" cursed Emma, "What's he doing to them?"

"What he's doing…is painful. Too painful for us to make sense of!"

"Can you at least locate them so I can make Shanobi share that pain?" she asked intently.

"We can sense them on the 53rd floor in some dark room, but something is keeping us from reaching them!"

Emma was consumed by a surge of anger.

"Link up with my mind and I'll find them!" said Emma strongly, "I know it hurts, but you need to stay connected to your sisters. Don't let up!"

"We…we will, Miss Frost," they all said harmoniously.

Emma turned towards her students, who were anxiously awaiting their next orders.

"Protect them from any interference that comes their way," she ordered, "Noriko, use your electrical talents to keep the helmets powered. Throw in a little extra juice if necessary."

"We'll keep 'em safe, Miss Frost. You can count on it!" assured Sam.

"You better," she said sternly.

The angry telepath then turned to Cyclops and Phoenix, both of whom looked ready for action. It was just like old times with the X-men. Unlike all those previous missions, this one was very personal to Emma.

"You don't need to bark orders. We know what happens next," said Phoenix strongly.

"Then I don't need to tell you how quickly we need to proceed!" said Emma.

"Phoenix and I are ready to take care of the heavy lifting," said Cyclops, "You just look forward to reuniting with your girls."

* * *

**Shaw Industries – Secret Pent House Lab**

"Is it ready yet, Mr. Ramsey?" said a deeply impatient Shanobi Shaw.

"Uh…almost, Mr. Shaw," said an anxious teenage boy who was sitting in front of a large computer away.

"Almost is not quick enough! Wraith and his cronies just unleashed the electromagnetic pulse over Colorado Springs. If we're to hack them while they hack NORAD, this elaborate computer setup that I've so generously provided must be at full strength!"

"It…it will. I guarantee it," assured the boy.

Sixteen-year-old Doug Ramsey couldn't believe the mess he was caught up in. He almost preferred Juvenile Hall to a setting like this. Here he was, a gifted mutant with the ability to translate and decipher codes, having to essentially prostitute his talents to men like Shanobi Shaw so he could avoid the trouble he had gotten himself into. It was certainly not how he envisioned using these abilities when they first manifested last year.

'_God I hate this guy. I thought I had daddy issues, but this guy is a consummate pro. The worst my dad ever did was kick me out of the house because I got caught hacking his boss's computer. I doubt that's all Shanobi's old man did to him. It takes a lot more to turn someone into this big an asshole.'_

Doug, or Cypher as he called himself, was working on two days without sleep to get this elaborate setup done for Mr. Shaw. In a secret laboratory built adjacent to Shanobi Shaw's office, he established a special computer network that was to be a key component in this highly secret and highly illegal operation. Only a handful of trusted technicians were tasked with putting it together. There were only three other computer engineers helping him manage this digital assembly when it required three dozen.

In addition to the computers, this operation included some bizarre experiment involving two teenage girls. The masked technicians working them weren't pushed nearly as hard. They looked as though they were just waiting for Shaw's next orders. Cypher tried to not even look at the girls. He figured they had it many times worse than him and looking at them would only make him lose focus.

'_Just don't think about it, Cypher. Suck it up and keep typing. You can feel sick to your stomach about what he's doing to those poor girls later. Just focus on getting the hell out of here and away from Shaw forever.'_

Working for Shanobi Shaw was never his life's ambition. He ended up in this mess because of his powers. Last year he figured out he could decipher any code, which allowed him to understand any language and crack any computer code. It started off small. All he did was use it to hack into his high school network to change the grades of anyone who paid him enough money. He then graduated to cracking other networks, including the network at this defense contractor his father worked at. Looking back on it, this probably qualified as one of the worst idea of the century. Not only did that stunt cost his father a job, it cost him a home. If that weren't bad enough, hacking a defense contractor was sort of a crime and he essentially bought a one-way ticket to a life as a juvenile criminal.

His only means of survival were the same skills that got him into so much trouble. That's how his path eventually crossed with Shanobi Shaw. His father's company, Shaw Industries, had a reputation for hiring mutants and paying them handsomely. But pay, in some instances, meant keeping mutants like him from being arrested. That made them the modern equivalent of slaves and Shaw was anything but a merciful master. This ambitious project that involved him hacking NORAD was the latest in a growing list of shady activities that made him sick to his stomach.

"The doctors say my father could awaken at any time," mused Shaw as he gazed over the unmoving bodies of Esme and Sophie, "When he awakens, he'll find his company emerging from the biggest crisis it has ever faced. That Genosha deal has cut into our profits in a manner equivalent to ten major recessions."

"Funny, I thought a company like this would find a way to make some extra cash off that deal. Everybody else has," commented Cypher as he adjusted the wiring on a few computers.

"Don't call it funny when you're clearly too stupid to understand," spat Shanobi, "My father's _incapacitation_ paralyzed the Shaw empire. It didn't matter that he had a son waiting in the wings to take over. My father never believed in me and neither do his shareholders. That's why we have fallen behind. That's why competitors like Worthington Industries have reaped the rewards while Shaw Industries _withers_."

"Don't forget Apple as well. I saw the YouTube video of their new hardware featuring Genosha technology. I'm guessing that puts a huge damper in your tech division," said Cypher, holding back a chuckle.

"Aren't you supposed to have that network up and running by now?" he retorted, "It's not that simple. Someone sabotaged Shaw Industries. Someone didn't want us to benefit from this deal. Whoever is behind this, I'll see to it that _nobody_ benefits!"

"Nobody? Um…isn't this deal supposed to maintain peace between humans and mutants?" questioned Cypher.

"This deal is just a temporary band-aid on an otherwise terminal wound. If reclaiming the dominance of Shaw Industries means sabotaging this pathetic excuse for human/mutant harmony, so be it."

Doug Ramsey felt a chill run down his spine as he continued to work. He may have been a slave to Shaw's greed, but he wasn't ignorant of the outside world. He understood the importance of the Genosha treaty. Every mutant understood it because this was the deal that prevented a war that seemed all but inevitable after the Cambrian. If it were destroyed, then what was to stop that war from happening?

He couldn't think about it at this point. Like it or not, he was trapped. Shanobi Shaw was just like his father in that he didn't tolerate people having a conscious. If he went back on his word, then he would suffer a fate far worse than simply being turned over to the authorities. Doug couldn't risk that. His only choice was to proceed and hope that somehow Shanobi would somehow screw it up.

"It's almost time," said Shanobi, still fixated on the two girls who lay restrained on a couple of gurneys, "Wraith and the Purifiers will be expecting me to contribute soon. Are Miss Esme and Miss Sophie ready for their grand performance?"

The two masked technicians, who happened to be former operatives of the Inner Circle, carefully calibrated the high tech apparatus that was controlling these two powerful telepaths. A maze of wires and IV tubes flowed in and out of their bodies. Each fed into a much larger array at the back end of the room. This array, which bore an uncanny resemblance to the Cerebro unit that Charles Xavier once used, that would be the key to cripple his competition.

"They're ready, Mr. Shaw," said one of the technicians, "Based on these numbers, I estimate we'll only get one shot at this. Inflicting a mass psychic attack on such a concentrated area is quite a strain, even for a high level telepath."

"Are you telling me these girls won't survive the process?" asked Shaw.

"Is that a major concern?"

"Hardly," he scoffed, "My father wasn't doing much with these little skanks anyways. Since I think he's soured on blondes for a while, I'm sure he won't mind them suffering horribly before they're disposed of."

It was a downright sadistic logic that forced Cypher to swallow a healthy dose of disgust. He was almost obligated to rise up and call Shaw a monster, but he held his breath and kept on working. The two technicians looked completely indifferent, showing that he was really on his own in this horrific endeavor.

"In that case, we're ready to proceed," said the technician.

"Excellent!" said Shanobi with a sinister grin, "I'll have Warhawk put in a call to Colonel Wraith. His job is about to get a lot easier and so is mine. That arrogant fool has no idea how much he's about to help me."

* * *

**Colorado Springs**

The free fall through the pitch black sky was like a descent into hell. The twelve elite operatives who proudly bore the emblems of the Purifiers braved the descent without fear or hesitation. They were on a mission for the Lord. They were ready to fight on this clandestine crusade.

The landscape below came into view soon after they emerged from the clouds. The darkened prison facility was difficult to see. The EMP bomb that was detonated earlier worked perfectly. The entire area was pitch black. They were completely shrouded by the darkness and poised to storm the secure compound undetected.

"Approaching optimal deployment altitude!" yelled the lead operative, "Deploy chutes in three…two…one!"

In perfect succession, the twelve Purifiers pulled their rip chords to deploy their parachutes. They were black, just like their outfits. As soon as the canopy opened, their descent was slowed. Armed with special helmets, the twelve operatives activated their night vision so they could see ground below. They couldn't land just anywhere. They had to arrive on a particular spot in order to proceed with the next part of the mission. That spot was on the northwest side of the complex just inside the main wall. The darkness would cover their landing, but not for long.

"Approaching coordinates. Both units follow my signal," ordered the lead operative.

The next few moments were tense as the ground drew near. Already they could hear some of the panicked voice below. The facility was already scrambling to figure out what was going on. The confusion could only help their operation as their destination drew near.

Through skilled maneuvering, the twelve operatives landed right at the northwest corner right under a guard tower. As soon as they touched down, the men quickly detached from their chutes and huddled near the wall in preparation for the next step. As they did, the each took out their specially made Uzi sub-machine guns. This was not an all-out attack, but they needed to be prepared to oppose those who stood in the path of their crusade. This facility was vast and presented plenty of obstacles. Now that they were on the ground, they could hear the frantic yelling of numerous MPs.

"The hell is going on? Is this a terrorist attack?"

"Everything's down! It has to be an EMP!"

"Why aren't the damn backup generators kicking in?"

"Wait! I thought I saw something fly in. I think it landed over there!"

"I saw it too. Damn it, I can't see anything!"

The Purifiers got into a defensive position. Already, they could sense some activity drawing near. It looked like they were destined to clash with these hapless MPs, none of whom were enemies in this fight. That made the next step all the more vital.

The lead operative gave a signal for each of his operatives to stand down. Not a shot was to be fired until he gave the order. While the other Purifiers waited anxiously, the leader adjusted the radio in his helmet and made a call to Reverend Stryker.

"Brother William, we're in position," he reported.

"_What is your status? Was your presence detected?"_

"More than we anticipated. Please tell Colonel Wraith to hurry with that _cover_ he spoke of. If the MPs get too close, we may have to fire some warning shots!"

"_You'll do no such thing. These soldiers are not the enemy. They are merely misguided. You are to spill no blood except for that of a mutant! Is that clear?"_

"Yes sir, but…"

"_Have faith, Brother. Colonel Wraith will come through. He better if he values the success of this operation as much as we do."_

* * *

**Shaw Industries – Secret Pent House Lab**

"Mr. Shaw, we're getting an encrypted message from Colonel Wraith. He's _demanding_ we launch the attack," exclaimed one of Shaw's trusted technicians.

"Of course he's demanding it. Wraith never asks nicely for anything," said Shanobi Shaw dryly.

While his associates were working frantically on Cypher's computer network and the apparatus controlling the two Stepford Cuckoos, Shanobi remained poised and calm. This was a critical moment in this operation, but far from _the most_ critical.

"Mr. Ramsey, may I assume we're finally ready?" said Shanobi.

"Just finished the final diagnostics. We're up and running," said Cypher, "I'm officially tapped into the same signal feed Wraith's people are using as we speak. As soon as they make their move, I'll make mine."

"That puts the onus entirely on Wraith, as unsettling that may be. Even he shouldn't be able to screw this up after this little psychic surprise."

Shanobi turned towards the technicians working the machines that Esme and Sophie were hooked up to. They looked just as eager as him to get this operation underway. If only his father was here to see his triumph, then he would realize just how worthy he was of the Shaw name.

"You may begin," he told the technicians.

"Yes sir," said the lead technician, "The psychic attack is already channeled and focused on the designated coordinates. The psionic influx will begin in T-minus 10 seconds."

Shanboi grinned with sadistic intent. The two girls were already shifting uncomfortably. As soon as the two technicians adjusted some dials and flipped some switches, a surge of energy filled the wires going into their prone bodies. Moments later, a series of lights flashed around the helmets they were wearing along with the larger apparatus at the front of the room. The ominous hum of the machines filled the room. Cypher stayed focused on his computer array while everyone else watched the two girls. He was too weak and too squeamish to witness what they were about to go through.

More lights flashed on helmets covering the heads of Esme and Sophie. They started off blue and then flickered to yellow. A few seconds later, a surge of energy poured into the wires. As it did, the two teenage girls let out a cry of agony that echoed through the entire floor of the building.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

* * *

**Downtown Manhattan – Parking Garage**

"NO…THE POWER…THE PAIN…TOO MUCH! IT HURTS…TOO MUCH!"

Phoebe, Mindee, and Celeste were in a world of agony. It happened so quickly. One minute they were in a deep meditative state and the next they started groaning uncomfortably as if someone was pressing a vice down onto their heads. The girls started screaming like they were being tortured. For Cannonball, Sunspot, Surge, and Hellion it was an unexpected and distressing turn of events.

"Whoa! Are they under some sort of psychic attack or something?" exclaimed Surge.

"Ah don't think so. If it were a psychic attack, Ah'm pretty sure we would feel it too," said Cannonball.

"Well what is it then?" exclaimed Hellion, "It sounds like someone's jabbing an ice pick into their skulls!"

The four teenage mutants had no idea what to do. Miss Frost did not prepare them for this. She only told them to protect the Stepford Cuckoos. They had been pacing restlessly outside the van for a few minutes now, waiting for an update on the mission. The three girls had been quiet for the most part. They were assumed to be guiding Cyclops, Phoenix, and Miss Frost to their sisters. Either this was some bizarre psychic manifestation or something had just gone horribly wrong.

Filled with panic, Cannonball and Sunspot tried to restrain the three girls in the back seat of the van. They were thrashing wildly, crying out in greater pain with each passing moment. It was difficult to listen to and watch.

"Hold them down, amigo. I think they're having a seizure or something!" said Sunspot, having to use some of his solar powers to keep the girls in place.

"Ah can't! These girls are stronger than they look," said Cannonball, "Hey Hellion! Think you can give us a hand?"

"I'll try. I usually am pretty good with the ladies," grunted Hellion.

The teenage mutant used his telekinetic abilities to restrain the three girls in their seats. It allowed Cannonball and Sunspot to back off. They could tell the girls were still in pain. Through their agony, they started talking in a string of jumbled words.

"So much psychic energy…so painful!" cried Mindee.

"Big machine…amplifying everything!" groaned Phoebe.

"Channeling…psychic attack…focused on one area!" moaned Celeste.

"It's too much," they all said in unison, "Their minds…our sisters…mere tools!"

There wasn't much that could be deciphered from these pained musings. Whatever was happening to them and their sisters, it must have been pretty horrific.

"Jeez, now I'm glad Miss Frost _didn't_ let us tag along. I can't imagine what they must be going through," said Surge.

"If these girls don't keep it down, we may end up seeing our share of action anyway," said Sunspot.

"You really think Shaw would have his goons patrol neighboring buildings?" said Cannonball skeptically.

Before he or the rest of Miss Frost's hand-picked students could speculate, they heard some voices from across the parking lot. Apparently, the frantic crying of three teenage girls drew a lot of attention in a place that carried echoes a bit too well.

"Who's down there? This area is supposed to be closed!" came a voice.

"Whoever is screaming better have a damn good reason for it!" said another.

Cannonball, Hellion, Surge, and Sunspot each exchanged glances. What was supposed to be a glorified babysitting mission was about to turn into an all-out battle.

"That answer your question?" said Surge.

"Loud and clear! Looks like we're gonna have to play defense, fellas," said Cannonball, clenching his fists in determination, "Hellion, keep those girls restrained. Put up a barrier if anybody gets close!"

"Guess that means you guys are going to do all the fun stuff, huh?" grunted Hellion, still struggling to keep the girls in their seats.

"We're gonna do what Miss Frost taught us to do. That's all we can do!" said Cannonball, now standing with Surge and Sunspot behind the van.

"Well whatever the hell is going on next door must be pretty messed up if it's causing this much screaming," said Surge as she prepared for combat.

"In that case they better do what they need to do fast. Our training only goes so far!" said Sunspot.

"We need to buy as much time as we can," said Sam, "I don't know what this Shaw guy is up to and Ah'm pretty sure Ah don't want to know. I just hope he can be stopped before it leads to something _much_ worse!"

* * *

**Colorado Springs – Prison Complex**

Time moved painfully slow for the Purifiers. The MPs were closing in. The whole facility was still darkened by the blackout. The clouds overhead ensured there was no moonlight to offer a guiding light of any kind. Even so, their presence had not gone unnoticed. It was not easy hiding a dozen operatives parachuting right within the walls of the complex. Now that the facilities security personnel were starting to get coordinated, it was only a matter of time before they discovered their presence.

"Over here! I think I saw something fly in over the gate," yelled the voice of an MP that was getting uncomfortably close.

The Purifiers saw the official closing in through the night vision in their helmets. Their orders remained not to shoot. That order was going to be very difficult to uphold if they got much closer. With the footsteps becoming louder by the second, each Purifier soon received a welcome message through their radios.

"_All Purifiers, activate your psychic shielding in your helmets. The psychic attack will commence on the area in five seconds."_

The twelve men did as they were instructed. This news came at just the right moment. One of the MPs finally spotted them through the darkness. When he saw the masked men backed up against the wall, the lone MP raised his weapon.

"Over here!" he yelled out, "We have intruders! Somebody alert the…"

That was as far as the MP got. At that instant, a mysterious energy descended upon the complex in the form of a massive psychic wave. It was concentrated on an area covering fifteen square miles with the prison complex at the very center. As it radiated throughout the area, every unguarded mind in the facility and the surrounding area was struck with the equivalent of a psychic bat to the head.

"AUUUUUGGGGGGH!"

In the span of a few seconds, every person in the prison complex was rendered unconscious. There was no struggle. Every guard, official, and prisoner went limp and collapsed. There was only the sound of faint groans before an eerie silence descended upon the area. The only ones not affected were the Purifiers, whose psychic defenses held up to the onslaught.

"_Give me a status report. Did the attack work?"_

"It worked, Brother Styrker! It's as if God himself reached down and put everyone in a deep sleep," reported the lead operative through his radio.

"_Then it would seem this Mr. Shaw that Wraith spoke of came through. That means you should have a clear path into the holding cells as well as the network hub. Our intelligence indicated that Graydon Creed was in the medium security wing, just a level above where they keep the most dangerous prisoners."_

"What if we run into a door that needs to be unlocked electronically?" asked the operative.

"_That's the primary reason you'll have to get the backup power online. Our associate, Arcade, is more than up for the task. Just make sure he has access to the network. Once it's up and running, picking up Graydon Creed should be as easy as picking up a dog from the vet."_

"We will not fail you, Reverend. God is with us!"

The lead operative turned to his associates. Now that their primary obstacles were out of the way, the mission could proceed smoothly.

"We have our orders, my brothers. Isaiah unit, follow me. We're going to retrieve Graydon Creed from his cell. Ezekiel unit, head towards the south end and get the backup power going. Be sure to check in with Reverend Stryker so his people can access the necessary network hub. This window we have will close quickly so summon your strength, pray for God's grace, and get moving. For the purity of man!"

"For the purity of man!" the other Purifiers repeated in affirmation.

Armed with blind faith and uncompromising conviction, the twelve elite Purifiers embarked on their mission. They split off into two units, each consisting of six operatives. They had to step over a number of unconscious bodies to reach the main entrance to the facility where their imprisoned target, Graydon Creed, was waiting for them. Only a trick from the devil himself could stop them now.

* * *

**Genosha – South Coast Port**

"Damn…this dump sure has been upgraded since I was last here," commented Wolverine as he took in his surroundings, "Still stinks to high hell."

"All the advanced alien technology in the world and painstaking planning at an international level, yet you still find something to complain about?" groaned an exasperated Alex Summers.

"Given number of times I've left this island with a pounding headache, I think I'm entitled to be a little extra critical," the feral mutant retorted.

"You say that as if you need an excuse," scoffed Quicksilver.

"Ain't saying I do. Just think it's a point worth making if I'm gonna be the guy keeping an eye on things for guys who ain't known for integrity."

Pietro and Alex wondered once again how Wolverine was supposed to be an _ally_ in this endeavor. Whatever Charles Xavier or Wanda had been thinking, it couldn't have been logical. The tour hadn't been going on for more than an hour and Wolverine was getting on their nerves. They led him through the several layers of security for this area, explaining along the way all the safeguards they had in place to ensure that this port and the deal that supported it would continue despite the fragile nature of human/mutant affairs.

Overall, the port was quite a tribute to Genosha's resolve and the alien technology that proved to be so precious. Within six months, an entire perimeter of thick, metallic walls was erected around an area the size of several city blocks. Along these walls were high tech sensors that looked like giant electronic eyes. Alex and Pietro explained that these _eyes_ were equipped with directed energy weapons, non-lethal blasts, and even projected psychic bursts. It was the kind of defense that most nations would have killed for, but was exclusive only to Genosha. Defenses like this ensured that every square inch of the port was protected.

Beyond the perimeter were a series of smaller walls that had various security points that scanned and identified everybody who entered the port. There were a number of large openings for cargo to pass through and every bit of it was closely monitored. Along the way there were a number of mutants working the various operations of the port, which included some familiar faces like Mercury, Mellencamp, Senyaka, Rusty, and Rictor. There were at least three dozen other mutants with various powers that Wolverine didn't recognize, but they sure recognized him and weren't too comfortable with his presence.

In addition, there were a number of international soldiers from the nearby military base doing their share of the work as well. They were even more scrutinized than he was. It was not a friendly place to say the least.

'_Few dozen mutants and a couple hundred soldiers workin' together…yeah, like this ain't a recipe for trouble.'_

By the time he made it to the actual docks, they had passed through a veritable fortress. At the moment, a large cargo ship was docked in the central port and being loaded with a fresh supply of alien tech. The hardware itself was in a series of sealed containers that looked more like compact bank vaults. They looked very secure. Quicksilver and Havok expressed a healthy level of confidence in the function of this operation.

"If you're done being an dick, I'll continue where we left off," said Havok as he gestured towards the ship, "As you can see, every cargo ship is specially commandeered by the US and British Navy. The carrier group off shore checks every square inch of it and processes every sailor on hand to make sure there are no known troublemakers on board."

"If you're gonna tell me that little measure has worked 100 percent of the time since it started, I'll know you're full of shit," commented Wolverine.

"Of course it hasn't worked _all _the time," groaned Quicksilver, "The first few months we had at least sixteen known pirates looking to smuggle this stuff into the black market."

"But we caught them all and sent a painfully clear message by kicking their asses before handing them over to the UN," Havok added.

"Must not have been painful enough given the shit that went down in Calcutta recently."

"I would say you've got some lofty standards, Wolverine. But I figure you're just back to being a dick again," quipped Quicksilver, "Believe what you want. It's taken some trial and error, but we've got this operation pretty nailed down."

"I'm still waiting to be convinced, bub," said Wolverine as he kept looking around.

The former living weapon began walking along the pier, scrutinizing the ship and everybody working aboard it. He analyzed every scent he could, mutant and human alike. In addition to the ship, he scrutinized the loading area of the port where the large metallic crates were stored. Working along with the soldiers were Blob, Polaris, and Mellencamp. They showed off their strength and powers by moving the cargo while keeping an eye on the soldiers. In turn, the soldiers kept an eye on them. Nobody seemed to trust anybody. That was all the more reason for Wolverine to be on alert.

"As you can see, we've also refined how we package and ship this hardware," Havok continued, "This stuff is pretty advanced, but it goes out in its most basic forms. The main components are Shi'ar power cells, quantum computing chips, and a few hunks of exotic metals that I couldn't begin to describe."

"We manufacture them at a secure location buried deep within the island. I'm sure you remember that mine where you first saw the alien ship," said Quicksilver.

"Like I can forget being shot at by some glowing alien jerk-off," muttered Wolverine.

"Then you'll love what we've done with the place," said Havok with a wry grin, "We've essentially turned that mine into an underground factory using the same Warlock program Magneto tried to control. Our people and a bunch of guys in suits from various countries work to mass produce the baseline components. It's then carted to the port where we check it, load it, and get justly rewarded."

"And I'm not talking just about the whole peace deal either," said Quicksilver, "We don't give this shit away for free. We sell it at a premium. That means Genosha gets to import all sorts of goodies from the rest of the world. Now we got TVs from Japan, computers from China, beer from Germany, fruit from South America, cars from Britain, and movies from America."

"I'm sure you punks are thrilled," muttered Wolverine, "Saves you the trouble of having to steal it."

"Is there any chance you're going to say something that's remotely relative to this _mission_ of yours?" said Havok with growing annoyance.

"That depends," he said in a more serious tone, "I'm working out how much I'll need my claws to carry out this mission."

"We can deal with your claws. We just can't deal with one more asshole in this _very_ sensitive area during these very sensitive times. If you're that eager to pick a fight, do humans and mutants a favor and choose another mission."

Wolverine snarled in response, caring little for how much he annoyed Havok and Quicksilver. Even if they thought he was just here to push their buttons, he was still serious about this mission. Professor Xavier trusted him to be his eyes and ears for this operation. Even with all these safeguards in place, there were way too many ways this treaty could go wrong.

While Quicksilver and Havok simmered with frustration, Wolverine turned his attention towards the eastern portion of the port. In the distance he could make out the imposing military base that still dominated the south side of the island. This base was a result of one of the compromises that Wanda made with the United Nations. After the Cambrian affair, a large body of international troops occupied the island. This was a major source of tension and even with the treaty, a military presence had to remain. So instead of a full on occupation, the military presence on Genosha was concentrated onto a single base and near the chief port no less. Something about that did not sit well with Wolverine.

"That cozy little base part of the tour?" said Wolverine, pointing out towards the base.

"You wish," scoffed Havok, "That's where our authority ends and humanity's begin."

"That tiny hunk of human filth has been a major source of migraines for Wanda and everyone else on this island," said Quicksilver, "The humans _insist_ on keeping a military base on the mainland just in case. They say it's a security measure, but it feels like an invasion force in the waiting."

"Right, because every human in the whole damn world just _loves _conspiring against you," scoffed Wolverine, "That all there is to it?"

"Conspiracy or not, it's a big part of this operation," sighed Havok, "The humans process the same data we do. They don't trust us any more than we trust them so they monitor every piece of tech that gets shipped out. They're also wired into the mines where we have Warlock so they can make sure we don't use it to make anything fishy like an H-bomb or something."

"Wait…so that base you don't control over is linked right into that alien gizmo that's the key to the whole damn treaty? And you're _assuming_ it ain't a gonna be a problem?"

"We _have _to. The humans demanded transparency," muttered Havok, "One wrong move and that base will pick a fight we can't win. Wanda knows this and promised to hex any Genosha citizen who so much as flips the place off."

"Heh…lucky for me I ain't Genosha," retorted Wolverine, "I'm guessin' if there's any funny business goin' down on this rock, it's gonna come from that dump."

With his usual impulsive nature, Wolverine barged past Havok and Quicksilver. He couldn't conduct a full investigation for Professor Xavier without checking every possible source of trouble. He was risking the wrath of the Scarlet Witch and several major military powers, but it was his job to find every weakness in this operation and his instincts told him that trouble would most likely come from this base.

Quicksilver and Havok were once again annoyed by Wolverine's brazen attitude. Of all the X-men they could have dealt with, he was by far the most frustrating. However, they did not go after him or even try to dissuade him. Since they were in no position to find out what was going on behind those walls, they might as well leave it to a guy best known for taking foolish risks.

"We're not going to try and stop him, are we?" said Quicksilver.

"Quick rule of thumb, Speedy. Sometimes the best way to win a fight is to have someone else do the fighting for you," said Havok wryly.

"If he causes a scene Wanda's still going to be pissed."

"If she asks, he overpowered you while I was off taking a piss."

"Hey! Why am I the one who gets overpowered?" Pietro complained.

"She's your sister. She'll believe it," said the younger mutant as he started walking towards the opposite end of the dock, "So rather than risk any more of your go, what do you say we raid the latest shipment of vodka from Russia? As far as I'm concerned, Wolverine's tour ended five minutes ago and we lost track of him."

* * *

**Colorado Springs – Prison Complex**

The Purifiers' mission was proceeding smoother than they had expected. That psychic attack, courtesy of Colonel Wraith's mysterious friend, ensured they wouldn't have to clash with the vast army of military police guarding this facility. They were all out cold and blissfully unaware. Compared to the missions the Purifiers had trained for, this was akin to a Sunday morning church service. That didn't mean they approached it with less urgency.

"We're almost at the medium security hub. Isaiah unit, take defense position alpha. We'll need to wait for the Ezekiel unit to get the backup power online," said the operative leader.

The six highly trained soldiers of the Isaiah unit stayed close in a two-by-three column as they made their way through the winding corridors of the prison. They had already covered a lot of ground. With the power off, they had to use plastic explosives to open the heavy doors around the outer entrances to the complex. This was all still the lighter parts of the security within this structure. The heavy doors were essentially luxuries because the doors that led to the actual prisoners were far more advanced.

The medium security area presented them with one of these doors. This one had the look of a blast door on a battle ship. They had to drill a small hole in the side to ensure the explosion blew it open. This cost them the vast majority of their explosive ordinance, forcing them to rely entirely on their fellow Purifiers in order to make it through the medium security wing.

Now they faced a barrier they could not blast their way through. The door that led into the prison cells was twice as big as the last one and at least four times as heavy if the metal fixtures were any indication. It appeared entirely locked down with no other clear means of entry. There wasn't even a keyhole or a mechanism to pick. With the clock ticking, the Isaiah unit could go no further.

"This is it. The level three checkpoint," said the lead operative.

"It appears to be electronically sealed with a hardwired master gear and time lock fail-safe," said one of the operatives that specialized in secure entrances.

"I'm guessing we can't blow this one up, even if we had more explosives," said one of the other operatives.

"It would take way more than we could carry. The master gear is remotely operated and since the power and the network is down, it's designed to stay sealed. It is likely their chief security protocol in case the power gets knocked out."

"Smart move," said another one of the operatives dryly, "Does that mean the Ezekiel unit should be checking in right about now?"

"They already should have."

The next few moments were tense. Not being able to proceed in a facility that was pitch black did not sit well. They had no idea how long that psychic blast was going to keep everybody unconscious either. If the power didn't come back on before they woke up, then the entire mission would be at risk.

The lead operative activated the radio in his helmet and kept signaling the Ezekiel unit. Since this area was so secure the signal did not carry well. Most of their responses were static.

"Ezekiel unit, come in. Do you read? We need the power back on _now_. By God's name, do _not_ test our faith at a time like this!"

There was still no response. While the lead operative was still fumbling with it, the other members of the squad were beginning to pray. They needed the strength of their Lord now more than ever to guide them on their crusade.

It didn't take long for those prayers to be answered. The lights throughout the corridor started flickering erratically. After a few tense seconds, they came back on completely. At that very instant, they got a message from Reverend Stryker.

"_Isaiah unit, do you read?"_

"Yes sir, Brother William. We read you loud and clear," said the lead operative with renewed optimism.

"_I take it by the tone of your voice that the Ezekiel unit was successful."_

"Indeed they were, God bless them. We're a bit behind though. The checkpoint to the medium security level is remotely activated. We need it opened immediately."

"_Stay calm, Brother. Arcade is already working on it. If his boasting is any indication, he was able to snake his way past the network's elaborate firewalls while everything was booting up. It should take no more than five minutes to get the doors open."_

"Will that be enough time to get Graydon and escape before hapless souls on this base regain consciousness?"

"_That I'm not sure of. My associate was vague on the duration of such effects. At the moment, it's best to assume you have fifteen minutes left. I have already ordered the Ezekiel unit to return to the initial landing point. They're going to deploy a skyhook balloon that our plane will tow in order to extract you from the facility. It should be ready by the time you get out."_

"We'll be there, sir. God is on our side!" asserted the lead operative.

"_It isn't God I'm worried about. It's the other unholy forces that may stand in our way. Be on your guard and maintain this uplink. Godspeed."_

The lead operative turned to his comrades and nodded in affirmation. With their unbreakable resolve, they remained confident. Now that the power was back on their chances of success were that much greater. The end of this mission was in sight and everyone was eager to get it over with.

The agonizing wait for the door to open began. The six Purifiers kept up their guard, ready for any of those unholy surprises mentioned by Reverend Stryker. All seemed eerily quiet. Then after a few minutes, they felt something unexpected.

"Hey…did anyone else just feel that?" asked one of the operatives, "It felt like…tremors of sorts."

"Great, I'm glad I'm not the only one," groaned another.

"What is it? Could this be one of those unholy forces Brother Stryker mentioned?"

It soon became more obvious. A strange rumble was flowing through the floor. It was small, but noticeable. It didn't feel like ordinary tremors. It came in a series of strange pulses, as if they were footsteps. The six Purifiers exchanged glances. There was a great deal about this that didn't feel right. It was enough to send a chill of terror down to their very souls.

Before they could ponder for too long on this rumbling, a loud horn sounded on the door. An array of lights came on while a few electronic panels flickered. After some chaotic computer activity, the locks within were undone and the heavy barrier was opened.

"Whatever tricks the devil may have, I'd rather not face him," said the operative urgently, "Let's move, Isaiah unit! Our fellow crusader awaits us!"

The rumbling was quickly forgotten and the six men stormed through the barrier with even greater urgency than before. They gripped their Uzis more firmly, ready to fire at the slightest abnormality.

The medium security wing wasn't nearly as elaborate as they expected. It was essentially a large, three-level rotunda. There was a lot of open space, which made sense because it allowed the guards on the top level to see everything that was going on with the prisoners. The cells themselves consisted of heavy doors with bullet-proof glass for windows. They didn't look nearly as imposing as the barriers they had faced earlier.

"According to Arcade's intel, Graydon Creed's cell is on the first level. Cell 1016," said the lead operative.

"Since I can still feel that rumbling, I prefer we get him out quickly."

Everyone in the Isaiah unit shared this sentiment. Even as they ran, they could feel the rumbling. It was getting more intense and giving them all the more reason to complete this mission quickly and get out of this God-forsaken place.

They scaled the stairs, arriving at the lowermost level and a fresh row of cells. Creed's was in a special area in the corner. The officials here must have been keeping an extra close eye on him. They noticed a lot more unconscious guards along the way as they neared his cell. Before they even got there, the lead operative radioed Reverend Stryker.

"Brother William, tell Arcade to hurry up and unlock the cells!"

"_He's already undone the electronic locks. However, you'll still have to open the cell. They require both a retinal scan and a key card. Use one of the guards nearby. You may have to do some searching."_

"I hope we do not have to search for long. There is an evil in this place and I fear it will find us soon!"

"_I hope that's mere paranoia, my brother. What kind of evil do you sense?"_

"With all due respect, Reverend…I would rather not describe it. We'll signal you when we have Creed."

The six Purifiers scrambled frantically, grabbing as many guards as they could and searching their pockets for key cards. They quickly retrieved several while the lead operative grabbed another guard and held his head up to the retinal scanner to undo the lock. All that was left was the key card. Working feverishly, each operative handed their leader the cards they had gathered. The lead operative immediately went to work testing them. The first two were duds, getting only a red error light in response.

"Come on. Work, damn you! In the name of all things holy, let this be the one!" he said anxiously.

The other Purifiers held their breath as their leader tested the last card. This time they got a green light and the cell door opened, revealing an unconscious Graydon Creed lying peacefully in his bed.

"Praise the Lord!" said one of the operatives.

"Let's get him out of here. God has granted us his grace. Let's not make light of it!" said another.

Three of the Purifiers rushed in and retrieved the unconscious man from his bed. They had officially achieved their primary objective. They had Graydon Creed in their possession. Now they just had to get him out before this menacing evil they all sensed caught up with them.

Once the six Purifiers gathered outside the cell, they prepared to exit through the exact route they had entered. Before they could even take their first step, they felt another deep rumble. This time it was a full blown tremor, powerful enough to shake them all off their balance. It felt like it came from the floor right under them.

"Oh Lord…I fear God's grace may have just run out," dreaded the lead operative.

"What kind of unholy evil could it be?!" exclaimed one of the Purifiers holding up Creed.

The six men got their answer much quicker than expected. Just up ahead in the central area, a massive force punched right through the floor. They all watched in terror as they saw what looked like an oversized arm tear right through the floor. Then, in a terrifying display of strength, that arm opened an even greater whole through which an imposing being emerged. It was a being too large and too muscular to be human. It looked like someone sold their soul to Satan himself in exchange for strength and Satan delivered in excess.

"Ahhhhhh it feels good to be out of that cell. I told them it was just a matter of time before the Juggernaut broke out!" the imposing figure proclaimed.

"What in the name of the Heavenly Father? This base was sheltering a mutant demon?!" exclaimed the lead operative.

"Mutant? Hahaha! I'm way worse than that, you puny fuck!" he replied, cracking his oversized fists, "And since you just insulted me, I think I'll use you and your buddies for a little light sparring. Should make for some good practice before I catch up with my Uncle Charlie!"

* * *

**Up next: Prison Break Part 2**


	4. Issue 101: Prison Break Part 2

**Issue #101  
Prison Break Part 2**

* * *

_The next stage of evolution has granted extraordinary powers to a new generation. Professor Charles Xavier and his X-men seek to use those powers to protect a world that hates and fears them. In their struggle they contend with many forces conspiring against them. As the conflict between humans and mutants evolves, the X-men are becoming an increasingly vulnerable target._

_The responsibilities of the X-men have never been more vital. Xavier's dream has taken on a geopolitical twist thanks to the mutant nation of Genosha. He and his X-men have been tasked with protecting a treaty that trades advanced alien technology for peace. Such peace is tenuous, driven primarily by an economic boom. To protect this wealth, the X-men have had to defend Genosha's resources from devious forces seeking to destroy it._

_Among those forces are two men who have been displaced by the Genosha treaty. Colonel John Wraith was once the head of Weapon X, a program that has since gained infamy of the worst kind. Reverend William Stryker was once a key advisor to President Kelly and was instrumental in his election. Now both men are working together to further their agenda with the help of the mysterious and devious Shanobi Shaw. _

_As part of their efforts, they seek to free Graydon Creed from prison. Once the head of the Friends of Humanity, Creed has valuable resources that Wraith and Stryker need for their goal. This has led them to embark on a daring prison break. However, the operation has not gone unnoticed._

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Hanger**

'_All available X-men, report to the hanger. We have a situation that requires our immediate involvement.'_

This was the urgent telepathic message that went out to everyone in the institute. It came after sundown and most of the team was working overtime to catch up on classes. Now it looked like they were in for overtime of a different kind.

Ororo, Kitty, Bobby, Remy, Betsy, and Piotr each stumbled into the hanger, some quicker than others. A few like Remy, Kitty, and Piotr were still not fully uniformed. Remy and Kitty had to literally hop the rest of the way so they could put their boots on in the process. Piotr was still zipping up the top part of his unique outfit that hugged his muscular form. It was not lost on them that there were a few notable absences in Scott, Jean, and Logan. They were all on other missions, leaving them somewhat depleted.

"Dang! Just when Remy was ready to catch up on his reading," grunted the Cajun as he strapped up his boots.

"You wouldn't have to catch up if you didn't so much time texting Rogue during the day," said Betsy, who had arrived a full minute before her boyfriend.

"Hey! Don't be starting a texting-a-girl-during-class argument. I had enough of those with Lorna, thank you very much," said Iceman, who also arrived a minute earlier.

"I would echo that sentiment," said Storm assertively, "We're already short staffed so please spare us any additional melodrama. There are more pressing matters at hand."

Betsy fell silent, although she made her discontent known. Remy being chattier with Rogue was an ongoing issue that had been unfolding gradually over the past few months. They hadn't resolved it yet. Now was not the time to work it out, but sooner or later it had to be addressed.

They arrived to find Professor Xavier looking very concerned. He kept looking down at his phone, which kept blaring with new messages.

"What is going on, Professor?" asked Piotr as he, Kitty, and Remy met up with the others.

"There's been a major blackout over a military prison complex in Colorado Springs. Less than twenty minutes ago, Cerebrum detected both an EMP and a powerful psionic wave over the area," Xavier explained.

"Whoa…an EMP _and _a psychic attack? Sounds like someone is shooting for overkill," said Kitty.

"How bad is it, Charles? I can tell by the look on your face that this involves more than a simple prison break," said Ororo.

"It's worse than you think, Ororo. This complex happens to be the facility where they're holding my wayward nephew, Cain Marko. His cell in NORAD was being reinforced so they were keeping him in the maximum wing at this facility temporarily."

Everybody on the team trembled at the mention of Juggernaut. Every time he got out in the open, a long path of destruction followed in his wake. At a time like this when they were trying to maintain the Genosha treaty, this was the last thing they needed.

"Damn…Remy almost prefer a return from Magneto," groaned Remy.

"Juggernaut? Isn't he that bloke who tore up New York City years ago?" said Betsy.

"He's all that and _worse_," dreaded Bobby, "Who in the hell would want to break Juggernaut out anyways? Hasn't he proved that he's completely out of his mind?!"

"I'm not sure Juggernaut is who they are after," said Xavier ominously, "In addition, this facility happens to be where Graydon Creed has been imprisoned."

"You mean that asshole who ran the Friends of Humanity?" said Kitty.

"The very same," affirmed the Professor, "His location has been a closely guarded secret. There have been many concerns since the District X incident that he would use some of his vast contacts to escape. Considering that our network was recently breached, it's not unreasonable to assume someone may be trying."

"So we've got both Creed and Juggernaut in the mix? All while Cyclops and Phoenix are out on some _other_ mission that probably involves a hotel suite in the Bahamas?" said Remy.

"It's also possible that the mission they're on is connected as well," said Xavier suspiciously.

"How do you figure, Professor?" asked Piotr.

There was no logical reason to link these events. Professor didn't know much about either since this conflict in Colorado was still unfolding while Cyclops and Phoenix departed on their mission earlier without giving too many details. But between the psychic blast and the network attack earlier in the year, it was too much a coincidence.

While Professor Xavier was pondering the possibilities, Hank emerged from the X-Jet. He had been working on some upgrades recently, integrating some of the technology they got from the Shi'ar and the Starjammers into the flight controls. He was supposed to be entering the testing phase, but this situation was too urgent to wait or take the slower Velocity instead.

"We're ready to go, Charles," Hank announced as he acrobatically jumped down from the nose of the jet, "With these new Shi'ar tech enhancements, we should be able to get to Colorado Springs within thirty minutes at the most."

"Then I'll have to make my case about connections later," said the Professor, "General Grimshaw has been sending me a string of urgent messages. He needs someone at that prison as soon as possible. If Juggernaut gets out, the X-men may be the last line of defense."

"Is any part of that supposed to surprise us?" sighed Betsy.

"About as much as it would surprise us if Creed's buddies were just freeing Juggernaut to screw with us," said Bobby.

"If that's the case, we'll find out for ourselves," said Ororo, "Since Cyclops isn't here, I'll act as field leader."

"And if Juggernaut needs a psychic trouncing, I'll gladly oblige," said Betsy.

"You sure you can manage that, cherè?" asked Remy in a concerned tone.

"Like you're _really_ that worried," she scoffed.

Remy sensed his girlfriend was still somewhat upset about him chatting with Rogue earlier. For once, he had no charming remark to save himself. Professor Xavier didn't even give him a chance and provided a welcome interruption.

"Your telepathic talents will have to suffice," he said, "I need to stay behind and investigate those connections I mentioned."

"So we're basically on our own if we have to fight Juggernaut?" said Kitty warily.

"We'll have to take that risk. I need to follow up on a few leads. I need to get in touch with Wolverine to ensure everything is okay on his end. The military network in Colorado Springs is linked to NORAD, which also happens to be linked to Genosha. At the very least, I must ensure this anomaly doesn't leave us vulnerable."

"We won't let it get that far, Professor," said Ororo assertively.

"If necessary, I'll use this as an opportunity to test the new afterburners," said Hank, "If it's really this urgent, we should take a few chances ourselves."

"I don't think that's up for debate, Mr. McCoy," said Kitty, "With Juggernaut and Graydon Creed involved, I think it's safe to assume this is bad enough to require any experimental alien-inspired tech that may help us along."

* * *

**Colorado Springs – Prison Complex**

"OUT OF MY WAY YOU PUNY LITTLE BUGS!"

"Run! Don't bother shooting! just take Graydon Creed and-AHHHHHH!"

"God in Heaven!"

It was a new kind of Hell for the Purifiers. This monstrosity who called himself Juggernaut was every bit as unstoppable as he boasted. He had been imprisoned in the maximum security area and for good reason. This monster of a man was full of rage and hatred. The moment he saw them, he looked at them as if they were flies and treated them as such.

The six Purifiers tried to shoot him, but their bullets did no damage. The imposing figure was engulfed in this mysterious pink energy that seemed to protect him. It also granted him great strength, which he demonstrated by ripping off two doors from a couple of prison cells and throwing it right at them. It forced the six men to duck. Four of the Purifiers tried to return fire with their guns while the other two with the unconscious Graydon Creed tried to escape. Juggernaut made quick work of them, slamming his fists onto the floor and causing the entire surface to rupture. He then casually grabbed one of the purifiers and literally crushed him in his fist, causing blood and bone to spill everywhere.

"There's no stopping this demon man!" said one of the Purifiers who was holding up Creed.

"God will protect our fallen brothers," assured the lead operative, "But we must protect ourselves to complete this mission!"

It was a difficult request for any leader to make, but the three remaining Purifiers who weren't escaping with Creed did so without question.

"Go on, my brother! We will fight to demonic man to the death!" said one of the Purifiers.

"For God and humanity!" cried another.

"You've gotta be shitting me," scoffed Juggernaut.

Cain Marko wasn't expecting much from these three pipsqueaks. He was only mildly surprised when one of them took out a small smoke grenade and threw it right at his face. When it went off it caused a momentary smoke screen that blinded him just long enough for the three men to get close enough to shoot at his head. The pink energy aura continued to protect him, but the three men still surrounded him and fired wildly at them with their weapons.

"DIE MINION OF SATAN!" yelled one of the Purifiers

"What a fucking joke," scoffed Juggernaut.

Clenching his fists, the unstoppable figure swatted to his left and threw a hard punch to his right. This killed one of the Purifiers instantly and mortally wounded the other two by breaking at least half the bones in their body. They never stood a chance. Their attack was practically an insult.

While Juggernaut was momentarily annoyed, the two other Purifiers managed to slip by with Creed and make their way up the stairs towards the exit. They didn't dare look back. They didn't dare let the carnage of their fallen brothers slow them down. Their crusade would have to continue without them. The burden of this mission was now literally on their shoulders and to succeed they would need help from above both literally and figuratively.

"Come in, Brother Stryker! Come in! Our situation is growing dire!" the lead operative cried.

There was a bit of static over his radio at first. Once they passed through the heavy security barrier they went through earlier, it cleared up.

"_Ezekiel unit, please respond! What in God's name is going on down there?!"_

"We've run into an obstacle of _biblical_ proportions," reported the leader, "It appears this facility had some truly devilish occupants in the maximum security wing!"

"_How bad is it? Can you make it out?"_

Before the lead operative could answer, Juggernaut emerged from the smoke below and looked up to see the remaining Purifiers escaping. When he saw them, the unstoppable figure cracked his knuckles in preparation for another assault.

"IS THIS THE BEST YOU CAN DO UNCLE CHARLIE? YOUR LITTLE PAWNS WON'T STOP THE JUGGERNAUT!"

Using his vast strength, Juggernaut leap up the three flights of stairs and landed with a hard thud right in front of the medium security wing checkpoint. Even though it was open, it wasn't enough for Juggernaut to just casually walk through it. He actually had to rip the door right off the hinges and throw it down the hall to narrowly miss the remaining Purifiers as they desperately tried to escape.

"I'm afraid our escape is still in question," answered the lead Purifier, "We'll try to make it out to the extraction point, but we need some intervention…divine or otherwise!"

* * *

**Skies Over Colorado Springs**

The atmosphere within the C-130 Gunship was in full crisis mode. This plan to extract Graydon Creed was supposed to be quick, quiet, and clean. Upon hearing the distress calls of the Ezekiel unit, this mission was turning into a catastrophic nightmare.

"Damn it, Wraith! What the hell have you gotten my men into?!" exclaimed Reverend Stryker, who grabbed Wraith by the collar.

"If you think choking me to death will do them any good, you're sadly mistaken," said Wraith, "I had no idea this dump was housing _Juggernaut_. I thought he was still locked up in NORAD."

"Well apparently they moved him and he's killed four of my crusaders. That monster could compromise this entire operation!"

"He certainly will if you don't let go of me and let me do something about it."

Reverend Stryker seethed with rage. Even the Holy Spirit couldn't restrain him at this point. These were his men Wraith was sacrificing. He trusted Wraith to help his crusade and so far he had gotten little in return. Now he was paying a high price in the form of his fellow Purifiers.

In spite of his outrage, the Reverend released his grip on Wraith. He was in no position to anything at this point. That burden now fell upon the Colonel's shoulders. He had plenty at stake as well and failure for him was every bit as undesirable as it was for Stryker.

"I'll figure out a way to salvage this mission," he assured Stryker, "Isn't that right, Mr. Arcade?"

"You're expecting me to solve _more_ of your problems?" said Arcade, shaking his head.

"I'm assuming the people running this complex weren't stupid enough to imprison Juggernaut without a failsafe."

"I'm already looking into it, Colonel. These military systems aren't as easy to hack as AOL," said a frantic Arcade as he went back and forth between multiple computer terminals, "Far as I can tell, there is some kind of defense system in place for prisoners like Juggernaut."

"Can you activate it without harming the Purifiers?" asked Wraith.

"I'm working on it, damn it! I'm a hacker, not a magician. I just need a few minutes to tap into the defense area and I…"

The young hacker stopped in mid-sentence. The expression on his face turned from focused to confused in the blink of an eye. Now he wasn't even typing anymore. All the computer screens in his array were flashing in a bizarre manner. Every system started locking up and for the first time in the operation, Arcade didn't look confident.

"No…NO! NO! NOOOO!" he yelled out in a fit of frustration.

"Please tell me that's a horrendous overreaction," said Reverend Stryker grimly.

"Someone just hijacked my line. I'd say overreacting is pretty damn appropriate!"

"Spare me the hacker jargon, Arcade. What's going on?" demanded Colonel Wraith.

"It's exactly what it sounds like, Colonel. Someone tapped into _my_ signal and used it to get into the NORAD network. They basically let me do all the work and kicked me out as soon as they were in."

"Are you telling me you can no longer access the prison defense system?!" exclaimed Colonel Wraith.

"I'm telling you somebody played us. As of right now, our thumbs are surgically attached to the deepest recesses of our ass," Arcade summarized boldly.

Colonel Wraith clenched his fists. The notion of somebody playing him was all too familiar. But this time there was little mystery over who was behind it. Only a handful of people were equipped to interfere with his operation and one in particular was cunning enough to pull it off.

'_Damn you, Shaw! I should've known you'd find a way to screw me over.'_

When all this was over, he was going to have to find a way to get back at Shanobi Shaw. If he was anything like he's father, he'll give him plenty of opportunities. But first, he had to figure out how to salvage this mission.

"Is it possible to hack back into network?" asked Colonel Wraith, trying to remain collected.

"After being shut out like this? That could take hours _at least_," groaned Arcade, "Whatever this _other hacker_ is doing, he's sucking up a ton of bandwidth. It's like he's using our own signal to tap into some other part of the military's defense network."

"I can only imagine what someone would want to do with that access," muttered Wraith, "Do what you can. If nothing else, we need to clear any trace of our presence at this facility."

"But what about my Purifiers? If we're not going to stop Juggernaut, we need to do something to get them out of this hell!" urged Stryker.

"Calm down, Reverend. I haven't forgotten about your men," assured Wraith, "We still have a chance to succeed once we have Creed. We're just going to have to take some extra risks."

Without going into more detail, Colonel Wraith rushed by Reverend Stryker and into the cockpit. The pilots he handpicked for this mission remained silent as instructed, not commenting on this latest turn for the worse.

"Do a U-turn and fly us down towards the extraction point. And increase the speed while you're at it," Wraith ordered.

"But sir, a maneuver like that would blow our cover with air traffic control at NORAD," argued the main pilot, "We're still working under the guise of a test mission."

"I know the logistics. If the tower starts asking questions, I'll take care of it," the Colonel yelled, "Now stop making excuses and do it!"

Without saying another word, the pilot and co-pilot prepared to execute this risky maneuver. Whatever Colonel Wraith had planned, it was certain to be dangerous and foolish. So much was going wrong and there was no telling where the chaos would end.

* * *

**Genosha – South Coast Military Base**

"Hey you! You're not allowed here!" barked an angry MP.

"Back off, bub. I'm here on business," snarled an impatient Wolverine.

"Not without clearance, you aren't."

"I got your clearance right here!"

The feral X-man showed his adamantium claws in a menacing manner. It was enough to make both MPs military base hesitate long enough for him to barge through. Between his X-men uniform and his demeanor, even well-trained military guards weren't in a position to stop him. He was on a mission and for once he was going to have a reason _not_ to get drunk afterwards.

His instincts told him that if there was a flaw in the Genosha treaty, he would find it here on this base. Given his history with the military, trouble was most likely to occur when government stooges and soldiers with guns were put in a volatile area like this.

It didn't help that this base was another converted port. The walled-off area didn't look nearly as impressive from the inside as it did from the outside. There were a couple of renovated buildings that probably house the nuts and bolts of this operation. There was also a cruiser and a couple of heavily support ships anchored right off the coast. Everywhere he looked there were armed soldiers marching around, moving cargo back and forth. Everyone seemed ready to invade Genosha at a moment's notice and when they saw him, some thought they were the ones being invaded.

"What are you looking at?" snarled Wolverine.

"Um…sir?" said a nearby soldier.

"I sure hope this is a drill," said another.

The former living weapon ignored the strange looks he was getting and continue his investigation. He began scoping out the buildings and the ships, looking for possible sources of weakness. He focused mainly on the buildings. That's where it was most likely that the military had networks set up that linked into the manufacturing facilities that Havok and Quicksilver mentioned. That's what he wanted to check out.

Wolverine started making his way towards the buildings, but he didn't get far. Within minutes, a uniformed officer stormed through the crowd of confused soldiers and confronted him.

"Excuse me!" said the officer firmly, "I don't know if you're drunk or stupid beyond measure, but this is a _secure military installation_. If you don't explain yourself I've got plenty of guns to shoot you with."

"Go ahead. Waste a few bullets for all I care," said Wolverine, still trying to walk by him.

The officer didn't let him proceed. He got right in front of his path along with two dozen armed marines. This wasn't a gesture meant to intimidate either. The officer had the marines point their M-16 rifles right at him. Even though Wolverine could probably heal from whatever attack they unleashed, he stopped for the sake of not making this messy.

"Do yourself a favor. Do _not_ call my bluff," said the officer, "I did not become a Major by issuing warnings."

"Good for you. Want another metal to go along with those tacky pins on your chest?" said Wolverine.

"Spare me the tough-guy rhetoric. Let's make this simple so we can spare ourselves any more frustration," he replied in a more serious tone, "My name is Major Stan Kirby, United States Marine Corp. I'm Chief of Security on this base and anyone who wants to see this complex has to go through me."

"Well Major, I'm guessin' you have a TV and surf the net on your downtime so you probably know I'm Wolverine from the X-men," retorted the feral mutant.

"Wouldn't matter if you were Madonna. You still need a damn good reason for being here. I know the X-men are friendly with the MSA, but that doesn't get you a free pass to every government instillation on the planet."

"I ain't looking for a pass. I'm here on a mission. A few friends of mine ain't too high on the security in this dump. After hearing from those Brotherhood goons that you guys are tapped into Warlock, I share their sentiment. And whenever I agree with the Brotherhood, it ain't a good sign."

"Are you suggesting that we aren't doing everything in our power to keep this facility secure?" said the officer in a harsh tone.

"I'm suggesting you might not have everything locked down as well as you think."

The officer scolded such insinuations. If Wolverine was really on an official mission, then the people who sent him had very poor tastes. Wolverine may have been a good stage act for the X-men, but he had no place here on official government property.

"You've got some serious gall," Major Kirby spat, "You think you can just barge in here and demand to see our security? Short of an order from the President, I'm inclined to kick you out and charge you with trespassing!"

"You would rather go through paperwork than not be a prick about this?" grunted Wolverine.

"Unless you can provide me something official, the next words out of my mouth will be an order for these men to shoot you where you stand!"

The former living weapon was getting frustrated. All this time he spent arguing with this asshole was time should have been spending checking out that network. He was close to just charging past these goons and storming the building himself, regardless of the mess it would cause. Then his communicator started beeping urgently.

"Hold that thought, bub," said Wolverine.

Pulling out his communicator, the feral mutant answered the call. He noticed from the signal ID that it was coming from Professor Xavier. If he was calling him in the middle of a mission, something was definitely wrong.

"Talk to me, Chuck. I got a situation here that…wait, could you say that again?!"

Wolverine's expression shifted as he listened to the frantic words stream in. His expression actually sparked the curiosity of Major Kirby. He still had his marines pointing their weapons right at Wolverine. It was a tense moment, but if there was something wrong on this base he had to know about it.

Wolverine let out an angry growl as the information came streaming in. As of this moment, his mission was no longer strictly an investigation. It was something a lot worse.

"Son of a bitch," he grumbled as he turned back to the Major, "I need you to take me to the network hub _right now_!"

"Unless that was the President you were talking to, I don't see any reason for doing so," said Major Kirby.

"How's this…you're hardware is being hacked right now while you're standing here jerking me around. That a good enough reason?!"

"Our network? That's not possible," said the officer.

"Oh yeah? In three minutes you're gonna get a call from a very pissed off General Grimshaw and the President ain't gonna be far behind. If you really give a damn about this base and saving your own ass, you'll let me through so I can do something about it. Before you think I'm just toying with you, look in my eyes bub. Do I look like the kind of guy who dicks around?"

Major Kirby paused for a moment. This man may have been an ill-mannered brute, but there was no denying that he was serious. He also happened to be an X-man. X-men weren't known for being somewhere if there wasn't trouble. Since this base was so important to the treaty, every perceived risk had to be taken seriously. So against his better judgment, he signaled the guards to lower their guns.

"Follow me," he said, "I'll show you our network hubs."

* * *

**Shaw Industries Corporate Headquarters – Secret Lab**

Shanobi learned a lot from his father despite being the illegitimate bastard of the Shaw legacy. One of those lessons involved strength and weakness. Whenever a weakness emerged, the best recourse wasn't to merely overcome it. Instead, the biggest success only came when a weakness was turned into a strength. The Genosha treaty had undermined Shaw Industries since its inception. Today, that was going to be remedied once and for all.

"Wraith, you arrogant fool you've done it again. You've done all the work for Shaw Industries and are setting yourself up to take the fall. I love it!" proclaimed Shanobi, "Mr. Ramsey, give me a status update."

"Right now we're at twenty percent, Mr. Shaw. I'm in NORAD's network and I'm currently navigating into the Genosha mainframe," said Cypher as he sat attentively at the computer array.

"How long will it take for you to download the full specs of their Warlock hardware?"

"It shouldn't be long. It's more a matter of volume than difficulty. There are a lot of layers to these systems. I can decode them, just not all at once."

"Then don't waste your energy talking to me. I want those specs in my system and encrypted so that I can begin usurping Genosha's monopoly on this hardware _tomorrow_. It'll be interesting to see how that puny little island can persuade the world not to nuke it off the map."

Cypher questioned Shanobi's standards of what was _interesting_. He probably wasn't too far off the mark. Once he stole these technology specs from Genosha, Shaw Industries would profit obscenely while Genosha went back to being a battleground for the human/mutant conflict. Being a mutant himself, it did not leave Cypher with a pleasant feeling. But he was no hero. If he wanted to remain in one piece, he had to do this.

Shanobi ignored Cypher's apparent reservations. He was too busy contemplating all the new products he was going to create using this Genosha technology. He had a feeling that companies all throughout the world would be thrilled at the prospect of not having to rely on Genosha for this hardware. They didn't know that he and his father were mutants. They didn't even know Shaw Industries employed more mutants than any other company. They only cared about profits. By the time his father woke up, he would arise to a company that dominated the global market like never before.

'_He'll have to acknowledge my authority this time. My father will have to take back every word from every instance where he called me disappointing. Oh to see the look on his face when I show him what I've done. I didn't just seize control from failing prospects. I had some foolish associates of his do all the dirty work while we reap the rewards. It's perfect in every way.'_

While Shaw was marveling in his own brilliance, the two technicians monitoring Esme and Sophie were working with increasing anxiety. Ever since they unleashed that psychic attack, they had been trying to stabilize them. After exerting so my psionic energy, these teenage girls should be dead. However, they remained alive despite being in obvious discomfort.

"This…is not supposed to happen," said one of the technicians who was frantically monitoring the vitals of the two girls.

"This isn't even supposed to be possible," said the other technician, "Glucose levels are rising, adrenaline levels are surging, and heart rate is through the roof. It's like someone shot them up with a triple dose of amphetamines."

This commotion quickly drew the attention of Shanobi Shaw. He was supposed to only be concerned with Cypher's hacking efforts at this point. He had no time to be bothered with these two relics from his father's debauchery.

"What are you two babbling about back there? I thought we were done with those little skanks," barked Shaw.

"Uh…we were, sir. We've been trying to sedate them since the psychic attack," said the lead technician nervously.

"So pull the plug already. I told you if they became a problem, just let them expire. I'd rather be rid of these girls anyways."

"We tried that too. The lethal injection failsafe uh…failed," said the other technician.

"That better be bad joke because I'm _not_ laughing."

"We're very serious, sir. Since being pumped with psionic energy, these girls have been having a _severe_ reaction. By all accounts, they should be brain dead. Something is keeping their minds intact. It's almost as if it's coming from an outside source."

Shanobi groaned in frustration. The possibility of an _outside source_ did not sit well for an instant. Leaving Cypher to his own devices for a moment, he rushed towards the gurneys and saw the anomaly for himself.

Esme and Sophie were getting worse by the second. Their bodies were violently shaking, putting undue strain on the straps holding them in place. The effects of the psychic attack clearly left them wounded in a great many ways. The most disturbing sign was their eyes, which were glowing in a strange bluish hue. Their eyes flashed in accord with erratic telepathic manifestation. Even though their heavy sedatives, they projected some psychic thoughts.

'_Sisters…mother…help us!'_

When Shaw heard this, the implications were clear. Someone was reaching out to them. These girls were supposed to be cut off from everything else, yet something managed to reach them. There were only so many forces capable of such a feat and one in particular stood out.

"Sisters and mother?" he questioned, "Well that explains where the outside force is coming from. Good thing they're already too late."

Turning away from the technicians, Shanobi pulled out his phone and made an emergency call to his building security.

"Security, this is Shanobi Shaw. I want the whole building locked down and sealed _immediately_. Lock all exits. Engage all emergency psychic dampeners. Tell every guard to…"

Shanobi stopped his urgent orders abruptly. It was only after issuing his stern words that he realized he didn't get through to his security staff. Either their communicators were dead or something else was very wrong.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Answer me, damn it! What the hell is going on?!"

* * *

**Shaw Industries Corporate Headquarters – 53****rd**** Floor**

'_Why do you insist on being so difficult? You're starting to give the impression that you enjoy psychic induced migraines.'_

"AHHHHHHH! MY HEAD!" exclaimed a Shaw Industries security guard in agony as he clutched his head.

"MAKE IT STOP! IT BURNS! IT-AHHHHHHHHH!" howled another whose nose started bleeding under the strain on his mind.

'_Jeez Emma, take it easy. I already disabled the psionic jammers in their ears. You could just as easily knock them out and not have them bleeding from their ears.'_

'_That would be unbefitting, Jean. My girls are in pain. They're losing what precious bit of life they have left. I don't have time to show mercy to Shaw's thugs.'_

Emma Frost was a warpath with Cyclops and Phoenix were struggling to keep up. They had just emerged from a locked down elevator shaft. The path through this office building/fortress had been treacherous to say the least. Cyclops had to blast through several walls to make it into the building through the utility levels. Then they had to blast through even more walls to get through the main security wings. This made it hard to enter with any level of stealth. They realized that Shaw scrutinized every inch of the building and as a result they had been fighting through his vast security forces every step of the way.

They were many obstacles on their way towards the elevator shafts. Cyclops and Phoenix led the charge, laying out an onslaught that consisted of optic blasts and telekinetic waves that cleared the path. Since all the top floors were locked down, they couldn't ride the elevator up to the 53rd floor. Phoenix had to tap some of her cosmic power to ascend through a number of reinforced barriers, which Cyclops had to blast through along the way. Once they reach the desired level, they were met with even more security.

Now in the south end of the excessively opulent halls of the Shaw Industries Corporate Headquarters, Cyclops blew through more walls to get around the obstacles set up by Shaw's security forces. The security was getting tighter and the attacks more desperate. Now they were encountering guards who had advanced laser weapons on par with what they saw at Weapon X. This could only mean they were close to Esme and Sophie.

"Damn! Looks like Shaw's has locked the whole floor down. He's definitely protecting something," said Cyclops as they narrowly dodged an attack from a windowed off portion of the complex.

"So why are we slowing down? That _something _he's protecting is probably my girls!" said Emma impatiently, "If you need a diversion, don't expect me to wait for an order."

The blond telepath launched another brazen attack. She halted her telepathic attack and shifted into her diamond form. Without hesitation, she walked right out into the danger. As soon as Shaw's guards saw her, they opened fire.

"I see one! Don't let her through!" yelled one of the guards.

"Shoot her! Shaw's orders are cripple or kill!" yelled another.

A barrage of laser fire erupted through the limited openings in the glass barrier, hitting Emma head on. She stumbled somewhat, but incurred few injuries thanks to her diamond shell. Only her X-men uniform was damaged as she boldly pushed forward.

"Anytime you two!" she called out, "Or are you just going to let them shoot until they burn my clothes off?"

"Damn it, Emma! What the hell are you doing?" groaned Cyclops, frustrated by his ex-lover's complete lack of a plan.

"What? It's not like I've nothing you haven't seen before."

Cyclops shook his head while Phoenix just shrugged. Emma hadn't changed much since they worked with her on the team. She was still as brazen and defiant as ever.

"Don't waste your breath yelling at her, Scott. It's not like she's going to apologize for it," sighed Phoenix.

"I know I shouldn't be this surprised, and yet…" he sighed.

The two X-men followed Emma's bold lead, jumping out into the clearing while the shooting was still rampant. Since it was all concentrated on Emma, it gave them a clear line-of-sight to fire back. Phoenix tapped more cosmic power and unleashed several balls of telekinetic energy towards the glass barrier. The first two shots only dented the glass, showing how tough it was. The second shattered it, stunning the guards just long enough for Cyclops to hit them with another wave of optic bursts.

As soon as the glass was shattered, it set off an alarm. Now the lights throughout the area were turned off. They could make out more barriers beyond the glass, some of which were clearly sealed. It was nothing overwhelming, but it was going to slow them down. Shaw clearly wasn't going to make this final push easy on them.

"I'm guessing that's where we have to go next," said Cyclops, keeping his hand on his visor.

"Shaw's pent house office is just on the other side. He's added some extra layers since I was last here, but it's nothing we can't handle," said Emma.

"You sure about that?" asked Phoenix, "If poison gas starts shooting out through the walls I'm blaming you."

"If he had something like that built in, he would have used it by now. I don't think Shanobi is looking to stop us. He's just looking to slow us down. I think he _wants _us to see what he's doing."

Emma stopped in mid stride. Her demeanor tensed and she abruptly shifted out of her diamond form. Almost immediately, she clutched her head in pain. Something had struck her mind and it wasn't a typical psychic anomaly.

"Ungh! My girls…" she gasped.

"What is it, Emma? What did you sense?" asked Cyclops urgently while helping her maintain her balance.

"Wait…I just felt it too," said Phoenix, shifting as well.

"It…it's terrible, Scott!" she said with a new wave of anxiety, "Something terrible has just happened to my girls. Shaw…he's _torturing_ them!"

"I think he's doing more than that," Phoenix dreaded, "What the hell is happening to them?"

"I don't know, but my cuckoos are sensing it too and it's hurting them just as much!"

It was not a look that Cyclops and Phoenix saw too often with Emma Frost. She had a very high pain tolerance and to see her cringe like this was a very bad sign.

"Hang in there, Emma. We'll just have to get to them faster," said Cyclops as he adjusted his visor, "Get behind me, ladies. I'll clear the way!"

"Ungh…you better not be trying to make me hot for you again," grunted Emma, still struggling with this feeling.

"You need to learn to stop flattering yourself, Emma. Especially when Scott's current girlfriend is standing right next to you," scolded Phoenix.

Despite Emma's remarks, Phoenix gave Emma someone to lean on as they followed Cyclops into the next round of barriers. Before they even stepped over the shattered glass, he unleashed an optic blast that blew another gaping hole into a nearby wall. More alarms sounded and more destruction filled the mangled corridors of the opulent corporate building. It was only a matter of time before they reached Shanobi themselves.

With every step they took, Emma had a sickening feeling that they were already too late. Her girls were still alive. They had to be. But something was different now. Something was twisting their minds in ways that defied words or thoughts. Did that mean her girls were beyond saving? If so she would see to it that Shaw would pay dearly for his crime.

* * *

**Downtown Manhattan – Parking Garage**

"Our sisters…Esme…Sophie…slipping away. So much pain! It…it's too much!"

"That's the _fifth_ time they've said that," groaned Hellion, "I think we need to pull the plug on those helmets."

"Miss Frost said to keep them on. If you're willing to risk her wrath, then by all means," said Surge.

"Nobody's removing anything," shouted Cannonball, "Miss Frost told us to defend the girls and that's what we're gonna do. Hellion, keep watching my back. Surge, keep those dang helmets going."

It was easier said than done. Cannonball, Sunspot, Hellion, and Surge had been fighting off Shaw's security ever since the Cuckoos started making a commotion. They came in waves. They started by blocking off the exits and closing down the tunnels. It left the four young mutants trapped and vulnerable. However, this was what Emma Frost ordered. She said she had a plan. They had to trust her. They had to use everything she taught them to hold their own.

It started off with a few lone guards armed with nightsticks and handguns. They wore the distinct uniforms that all Shaw Industries personnel had to wear. Miss Frost had warned them that Shaw loved to hire dishonorably discharged military types who were slightly unbalanced and in need of steady work. Never-the-less, they were manageable. Hellion disarmed them with his telekinesis while Cannonball and Sunspot used their heavy hitting powers to knock them out. All the while Surge stayed with the Stepford Cuckoos, making sure their telepathic headgear continued working.

It didn't stay manageable for long. Their military training showed as more elite units came to join the fight. These were the units that wore the distinct garb of the Inner Circle, consisting of red and black body suits with white masks. They were armed with more advanced weapons and used every nook of the parking garage to fortify their position. It forced the four young mutants onto the defensive. Hellion was now using his telekinesis to shield his friends while Sunspot and Cannonball stepped up their attack.

"Damn! These guys mean business," grunted Sunspot, having to increase his power consumption so that the incoming bullets vaporized before they hit, "We need to regroup!"

"To hell with that!" said Cannonball as he flew at full blast around nearby support columns, bowling over any guard that got in his way, "We gotta hold our ground! Give Miss Frost and the X-men some time."

"For all we know they've been captured!"

"No way! Ah don't believe that for a second. Just keep on hittin' hard and fast until Miss Frost tells us otherwise."

Cannonball wouldn't hear any more dread from Sunspot. He led by example, landing right at the far end of the parking level and getting off to a running start before going into blast mode again. This time he flew at greater speeds and blew his way through several columns, taking at least a dozen guards in the process. This made things easier for Sunspot, who had to take them out one or two at a time. It eased up the pressure on Hellion, who was keeping the bullets from reaching the van.

However, this shift in momentum did not last for very long. From the level above, there were more echoes of frantic footsteps. It seemed Shaw had limitless reinforcements.

"Down here! We're already at code omega. Shaw's orders are now shoot to kill," came the voice of one masked guard.

"Ah don't like the sound of that," groaned Cannonball, "Hellion, do you think you can expand your barrier?"

"Ungh! Are you kidding? I can barely keep this one up!" exclaimed Hellion, his face drenched with sweat and strain.

"Well we're gonna need some extra punch for this one!"

They could already see the shadows of the guards closing in. Cannonball and Sunspot prepared themselves for another assault. They took a position just behind Hellion's telekinetic shield so they could catch their breath. The next onslaught looked daunting. This was not lost on Surge, who sensed the boys were overmatched.

"You need more punch? I can provide that," she said.

"No Surge! You're supposed to be watching over the girls," retorted Cannonball.

"Japanese girls are not as weak as you American men seem to think. I can spare a few gigavolts!"

"Surge, wait a sec!" Cannonball began.

He didn't get a chance to talk her down. With one hand still pointed at the Cuckoos providing a steady stream of electricity, Surge pointed over towards the area where the reinforcements were emerging and set her sights towards the lighting figures just above where the guards were poised to enter.

"I would cover your eyes if I were you," she warned them.

"Oye merda," cursed Sunspot in his native Brazilian tongue.

Sunspot, Cannonball, and Hellion braced themselves. In an instant a blinding flash erupted from the hands of Surge. Large bolts of lightning shot out and surged through the lighting fixtures that had been illuminating the parking garage. They followed a clear path along the wires right up towards where the guards were coming in. As soon as a few of them came into sight, the lights above them turned into traps.

From the fluorescent tubes, huge sparks of lightning shot down right into the crowd of heavily armed guards. It was so bright it briefly filled the whole area with a blinding bluish flash. The lightning then surged through the dozens of figures trying to get through. As it arced over them, groans of agony reverberated throughout the area.

"ARRRRGGGHHHHHHH!"

It was over in a mere five seconds. When Surge ended her electric assault, she nearly collapsed. Cannonball had to catch her. At the same time, many of the lighting fixtures were damaged and now the area was only illuminated by weak flickering lights. It wasn't ideal, but it did buy them some much needed time.

"Hnn…never tried that before," groaned Surge.

"I'm glad you did," said Hellion, who was finally able to lower his telekinetic shield, "My brain was about to burst through my skull."

"It was still pretty dang reckless," chided Cannonball, "What about the Cuckoos? Don't their helmets need power?"

The attention was still on Surge, but the momentary lapse of power seemed to affect the Cuckoos. Since this battle began, they had been thrashing wildly through fits of pain. Now they had unexpectedly settled. They were short of breath and panting heavily, but they looked like they were still in a great deal of pain. In addition, there were ominous streaks of tears now trailing down, indicating great sorrow in addition to such pain.

"The hell? Sam, check this out!" exclaimed Sunspot, directing them towards the three girls.

"We're too late," said Mindee.

"We've lost," said Phoebe.

"Esme and Sophie…they're gone," said Celeste.

"What do you mean? Are they dead?" exclaimed Cannonball, "What about Miss Frost and the X-men?!"

The three girls each removed their helmets. More tears filled their eyes. They weren't just tears of sorrow either. Something had just gone horribly wrong between them and their lost sisters.

"It doesn't matter now," they all said in unison, "Shaw has won. Esme and Sophie are now in a state much worse than death."

* * *

**Meanwhile**

Shanobi Shaw was scrambling for answers. This operation was supposed to be clean, efficient, and secret. It had turned into a very destructive battle that pitted him against Wraith, Genosha, and some very unpleasant shadows from his father's many previous misdeeds.

"How much longer, Cypher?" exclaimed Shanobi.

"We're at 58 percent," said Doug Ramsey, who had not taken his eyes off his computer array since the conflict began.

"That better be the fastest it can go. Otherwise you'll have to learn to hack under fire."

"So…we're being attacked?" asked the young mutant nervously.

"We're about to be, but don't even contemplate moving from that chair. I'm ready for this. Our enterprising intruders are already too late."

Cypher his growing nervousness. He was under the impression that this operation involved hacking and not fighting. He was not a fighter and had never trained himself to work under this kind of duress. He wanted to believe Shaw when he said he was ready, but this man had proven to be less than trustworthy to say the least. It seemed no matter what the outcome, he was going to be on the losing end.

While Cypher kept working, Shanobi gazed over the two gurneys where Sophie and Esme were still shackled. They had stopped trembling and were now lying deathly still. The veins in their bodies were bulging and their skin had become discolored. They did not look like the healthy blond teenage girls they had been when they first arrived. For the technicians, it was a gruesome sight. For Shaw, it was a fitting end.

"God in heaven…how are they still _alive_?" exclaimed one of the technicians.

"These readings are a mess," said the other, "It's as if their brain chemistry has turned to mush."

"Then don't bother with further treatment," said Shanobi calmly, "You two have done all you can. Go ahead and take your leave."

"You…don't want us to save them?"

"Heavens no," he scoffed, "I have other plans for them and they don't involve you. Now get out through the back escape before I change my mind."

The two technicians did not make light of Shanobi Shaw's generosity. They ran as fast as they could towards the other side of the lab where the secondary escape was located. As they left, Shanobi entered a few commands on the medical gear that was still hooked into the girls. Since they had served their purpose, he might as well make good use of them.

"Uh…you are going to call for backup, aren't you?" said Cypher nervously.

"Quit wasting your breath and finishing your job, Cypher," said Shanobi sternly upon entering the commands for the girls, "I'll take care of this."

Cypher did as he was told while Shanobi patiently waited near the front entrance to the lab, which consisted of a large sliding door that led to the secret passage from his office. He didn't have to wait long. He could already hear the ominous sounds of blasts and falling bodies from the outside. The disturbance that had unexpectedly plagued this operation was drawing near. He had little doubt as to who was behind it so he prepared to be completely unsurprised.

The lab was finally breached when a powerful blast blew the heavy metal doors off the hinges, revealing three figures standing in the narrow corridor. Shanobi recognized two of them as Cyclops and Phoenix of the X-men, but the one that drew his attention the most was Emma Frost. She was leading the charge and looked obscenely pissed at him.

"SHAW!" she yelled in a rage.

"Ah, now there's a pestilent voice I haven't heard in a while," said Shanobi snidely, "Emma Frost…still the semi-charming whore I see."

"Quit trying to be less a bastard, Shanobi. Get ready for the worst day in your pathetic life," threatened Emma as she stormed into the lab, "Since your scumbag father isn't here, I plan on taking my anger out on _you_!"

"Charming and vindictive…you haven't changed a bit," he retorted, "No wonder my father wanted you as his queen."

Emma looked poised to go into a berserker rage that would have put Wolverine to shame. Cyclops and Phoenix jumped out in front of her, ready to attack before this got uglier than it already was.

"Don't tempt my ex-girlfriend, Shanobi. You've already dug yourself into a deep enough hole," said Cyclops, his hand securely on his visor.

"Try to be smarter than your father for once. Tell us where the girls are," demanded Phoenix.

"You sound as though I'm hiding them," he laughed, "If you want them, they're yours. I've no more use for them."

Shanobi casually pushed a button on a small remote control in his pocket. Upon doing so, the gurneys holding the two remaining Stepford Cuckoos turned around via an automatic swivel, revealing to Emma and the two X-men what he did with these girls. When Emma saw them, her rage turned to horror.

Esme and Sophie had been ravaged by Shaw's madness. They looked like they had been diseased, tortured, and desecrated. Every vein in their bodies was now discolored with this strange bluish color. Their skin became leathery and wrinkled, as if they had been artificially aged. To add to Emma's horror, Shanobi activated the mechanism to remove the helmets so she could see their faces. It revealed expressions laced with agony. Their eyes had actually shifted color, now looking blood red and vacant of all humanity.

"My girls…" she gasped.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Phoenix, covering her in disgust.

"What did you do to them?!" said a very outraged Cyclops.

"I needed their psychic talents. It's not my fault they were too weak to handle our psionic amplifying interface," Shanobi shrugged, "Either they were a lot weaker than their mother or their genetics weren't as strong as my father presumed."

This was too much. Emma Frost had seen some horrifying sights in her life, but this was disturbing on a whole new level. Abandoning all charm and subtlety, the young telepath shifted into her diamond form and attacked Shanobi.

"YOU SICK BASTARD!" she yelled out.

"Warhawk, do you mind?" Shanobi called out.

In the ceiling right above Shanobi, a small compartment opened up and descended to the floor below. He landed just as Emma was within a few feet of Shanobi. He used his enhanced strength to slug her with a punishing haymaker. Even in her diamond form, she felt the punishing force and was sent flying clear across the room.

"Finally! I was getting really cramped in there. I hate these damn red alerts," grunted Warhawk.

"Take your frustration out on these X-men and I'll be sure you get a nice bonus," said Shanobi.

"Consider it done," he sneered as he cracked his knuckles in anticipation.

Not content to settle for hitting a hot blond, Warhawk immediately went for Cyclops and Phoenix. The two X-men went on the defensive.

"If you're the only muscle Shaw hired, you're in big trouble," said the X-leader.

"I'm the only muscle anyone needs, X-man," boasted Warhawk.

"Go Phoenix! I'll take care of this," he ordered.

"Good! I want a shot at Shanobi too," said Phoenix.

The two X-men split off and Cyclops lured Warhawk towards him. Cyclops adjusted his visor and unleashed a concentrated optic blast right towards him. Warhawk didn't even slow down. Using his agility, he narrowly avoided the blast and put up his arms to deflect any residual force. Cyclops tried to shift his gaze to hit him, but he wasn't fast enough. Warhawk had superhuman reflexes, allowing him to get in and knock the X-leader back.

"Augh!" he grunted.

"Pitiful! I thought the X-men were supposed to be tough," he boasted.

While Warhawk stood in momentary triumph over Cyclops, Shanobi took on Phoenix. It hardly seemed like a fair fight. Phoenix was disgusted with what this man had done and hadn't forgotten the pain his father caused her during the incident with the Inner Circle. For his punishment, she made sure to tap an extra bit of cosmic force.

"You're as sick as your father, Shanobi Shaw," yelled Phoenix in a halo of cosmic flame.

"And you're just as unreasonable so we're even," he grinned.

Shanobi waited for the last possible second before making his move. Phoenix was prepared to take him out with a blast of telekinesis and cosmic flames. Just as she was about to unleash her assault, Shanobi shifted his density and went completely intangible. In doing so he slipped right into the floor and narrowly avoided Phoenix's onslaught. It took Phoenix a moment figure out what he had done.

It ended up taking her several seconds too long because just as she stopped her attack, Shanobi emerged from the floor behind her. As she turned around to defend herself, Shanobi hit her with a punishing uppercut. He changed the density of his hand in the process, making the blow extra forceful. Phoenix tried to instinctively deflect with telekinesis, but it was still too much.

"Ungh!" she groaned.

"And to think, the Inner Circle thought you to be the vessel of a cosmic force," scoffed Shanobi.

Now Cyclops and Phoenix were down for the count. They wouldn't be down for long. Shanobi didn't need them to stay down though. Time was on his side and so was the element of surprise.

"Warhawk, time to regroup," Shanobi called out.

"Aww, I was hoping for a few more rounds with the X-men," he complained.

"You'll get another chance," he assured, "Right now, I'd much rather our guests fight someone a bit more _appropriate_."

Using the same remote control he utilized earlier, Shanobi clicked another button. This caused the gurneys holding Esme and Sophie to release the restraints. They fell limply to the floor, landing on their hands and knees. The sudden feeling of freedom helped jar them from their daze and when they looked up, the first thing they saw was Emma Frost. She had just pulled herself up against a nearby wall after having been slammed into it by Warhawk. Now she was facing the girls she came to rescue.

"Mother…" they said in unison, their voices raspy and full of sorrow.

"Esme…Sophie…what did he do to you?" said Emma in a mix of anger and confusion.

"Not him…_you_!" seethed Esme.

"You…failed us!" added Sophie, "We cried out for you. We _needed_ you."

"Now look what we've become!" yelled Esme.

Emma froze where she stood, not certain of what to do. Her first inclination was to fight back, but these were her daughters. She couldn't fight them, yet they had no reservation about fighting her.

'_So much anger and hatred. Shaw you devious monster…you turned my own daughters against me.'_

While Emma stared down her approaching daughters, Shanobi and Warhawk stood behind Cypher. It looked like they were in for a real show. Cyclops and Phoenix were still down for the count and now they had a new obstacle. It was all working in their favor.

"How much longer, Cypher?" asked Shanobi sternly.

"Um…we're at 81 percent," he said nervously.

"Keep going," he ordered, "Emma's darling offspring should keep them occupied. Once we have the Genosha schematics, _nothing_ will stand in my way."

* * *

**Genosha Military Base – Network Hub**

"OUT OF MY WAY!"

The impatient growls of an angry Wolverine echoed through each level of security leading towards the network hub. This highly secure and highly guarded area wasn't used to getting such vocal visitors. The Major who he encountered earlier was trying to keep up, using his clearance to get him through each level. At times, he had to use his authority just to keep the other guards from shooting at them. The way Wolverine was rushing through this place, it seemed like it was under attack or something.

"Slow down! We're near the final checkpoint," yelled the Major.

"Your gizmos are being hacked and you want us to slow down?" exclaimed Wolverine.

"You want to get locked out? No? Then let me do my job."

The Major ran full speed behind Wolverine. The feral mutant had to slow down a little so that the armed guards they encountered along the way could at least make out that he wasn't something to shoot at, although some were clearly tempted though. Wolverine ignored all their suspicions. Based on what Professor Xavier told him, he didn't have much time to work with. As they neared the final checkpoint, alarms started going off.

"That better be a fire drill," grunted Wolverine.

"Those are the network security alarms. Our analysts must have finally hit the panic button!"

"About freakin' time! Why didn't they do that sooner?"

"They probably didn't know how bad it was. We have protocols for stuff like this."

"By the time you finish scratching your asses, you're hardware will be wiped clean. Now forget the damn protocols and pick up the pace, damn it!"

The Major flashed his security badge to several nearby officers and electronic scanners, allowing him and Wolverine to move forward. They were almost there. The final barrier was in sight. It needed facial recognition, biometrics, and keycard activation in order to enter. The Major had all of that, but it was cumbersome to enter and Wolverine had little patience.

The Major worked as fast as he could to get through, swiping his key card and placing his hand on a nearby scanner. Even after he entered the data, the doors opened exceedingly slowly. It was too slow for Wolverine.

"You sure this is the last door we gotta bust through?" asked Wolverine.

"Yeah, why?" said the Major curiously.

Wolverine didn't bother answering. He drew his claws and plunged them right into the doors, prying them open with an extra touch of force. This angered the Major, but he didn't get a chance to chide the feral mutant for his actions.

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

"Send Uncle Sam the bill. I've got work to do," snarled Wolverine.

Leaving the Major Kirby behind, Wolverine stormed into the main network hub. It was smaller than he thought and fairly cramped. Every wall was laced with large computer servers with wires running everywhere from the ceilings into nearly every nearby terminal. In the center of the room was a large collection of tables where a bunch of uniformed analysts and assorted officers were working. They all looked pretty alarmed, but they had long since figured out they were being hacked.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be here," yelled one of the officers.

"I am now, bub! came to this dump to check on security and it looks like yours is pretty damn lousy," said Wolverine.

"Why you…" began the officer.

"Sir!" yelled a nearby analyst, "He may be able to help us. We're at a real loss here."

"That's putting it mildly. For some reason we can't figure out, this attack is coming right from the servers at NORAD. It's like we're hacking ourselves."

"Let me guess…you can't lock it out," surmised Wolverine dryly.

"All internal communications are encrypted. This attack is recognized as one of them. Because of that, we can't stop it from accessing all the data about the Genosha technology."

Wolverine held back a profanity laced tirade. Chuck was right about this treaty. It attracted attention from all sorts of dirt-bags. He was no computer expert. But these eggheads knew if this technology got stolen, then the Genosha treaty would be as worthless as the paper it was printed on.

Wolverine refused to let that happen. Since Beast wasn't with him there was little hope he could stop it the high tech way. Looking around the heavily wired room, he quickly formulated a plan.

"So you pencil-necks really can't stop any of this shit?" grumbled Wolverine as he paced around the room, following the wires.

"We're trying, but they're almost through to Warlock interface. If they get inside that, then we're screwed."

"Figures," said the feral mutant, "You tech heads are smart enough to make this shit work, but not smart enough to add a freakin' off switch. Guess that means I'll just have to pull the plug."

The officers and analysts didn't pick up on what Wolverine was in implying. Then only figured it out when they followed Wolverine's gaze. He followed the path of the wires in the ceiling to a series of cables running from the various servers and into a hollowed out part of the wall. Many had a "Danger: High Voltage" warning. It was a warning Wolverine would not heed.

With his claws still drawn, Wolverine braced himself and slashed through the cables. This shocked the analysts and the officers. They watched in horror as the feral mutant severed each cable, plunging every server and computer in the room into darkness and causing a shower of dangerous sparks in the process. In an instant the whole system was shut down and the area plunged into darkness.

"You crazy son-of-a…" began one of the analysts.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" roared and officer as he took out his weapon and his flashlight.

By now Wolverine was signed from the sparks and his hair was messy from the static. It wasn't the most painful experience he had endured. It wasn't that comfortable either. But with no network online, this cyber-attack had been stopped dead in its tracks.

"You're welcome, bub," muttered Wolverine, "Trust me, you'll thank me once you figure out how bad this shit could've been."

* * *

**Skies Over Colorado Springs**

The mood aboard the C-130 gunship was as tense. Reverend Stryker and Colonel Wraith were not pleased with one another. This extraction plan for Graydon Creed had taken a horrible turn. They had unwittingly unleashed the Juggernaut and he was laying waste to their manpower and this whole operation. He had already killed some of Stryker's best Purifiers. The Reverend certainly didn't take kindly to such losses. Wraith wasn't too thrilled either, although he was more concerned about this could undermine his operation.

The two men were simmering, but weren't inclined to attack one another. They were strapped to their seats near the mid-section of the plane as the bulky aircraft made a desperate move to extract Creed and the Purifiers. It involved the jet flying at a much lower altitude and at less-than-safe speeds. Everyone besides Arcade was strapped in, preparing for what was sure to be a rough ride with little hope of a major payoff.

"Damn you, Wraith! Damn you for putting my Purifiers in harm's way!" seethed a fuming Reverend Stryker.

"That's the third time you've said that, Reverend," retorted Colonel Wraith, "If you want an apology, don't expect anything until the mission is over."

"What mission? Thanks to you my men are at the mercy of that monstrosity. Even if this foolish extraction works, it will take a miracle from Heaven to get the rest of them out."

The two men continued to seethe. While they were burning up with anger, Arcade never stopped working. He had strapped himself into his special chair behind the computer array and kept typing, refusing to be out-hacked. It wasn't easy with the turbulence, but he kept trying. There seemed to be little hope of breaking through again.

That's when something unexpected happened. Despite Arcade's skills and the vast array of hardware at his disposal, it seemed like an obscene stroke of luck.

"Well I'll be…" he said with an ominous grin, "Reverend, it looks like Heaven may have just given us such a miracle."

"That better not be more jargon, Arcade," warned Stryker.

"I'm serious! The lock on my signal was just released. Whatever moron hijacked it, his connection was just severed. Either his hardware is shit or he was too stupid to recharge the batteries to his gear."

"Is there a better reason why we should share your excitement?" asked Colonel Wraith.

"Simply put, I have my connection back," said Arcade as he started feverishly typing again, "That means I can tap into the prison's defense system. I'm guessing they have a failsafe for Juggernaut. With a little tweaking, I should be able to remotely activate it."

Wraith and Stryker exchanged looks. It seemed this mission may succeed after all. Stryker still wasn't too thrilled because of the men he lost. At least now he had reason to believe that he wouldn't lose any more. Colonel Wraith grinned, making it clear that he intended to use this.

"There's been a change in plan again," Wraith yelled towards the cockpit, "Level us out a bit. Minimize the turbulence so our friend here can work!"

"That's a tall order, Colonel. We'll do our best," said one of the pilots.

"I don't need much. Just enough to keep me from throwing up," said Arcade, now back to his confident self, "Based on these schematics, this prison has a psychic pulse generator built into the guard towers. Assuming these guys were smart enough to keep Juggernauts psychic dampening gear away from him, this should knock him out."

"Then I suggest you hurry up and activate it!" urged Stryker, "I refuse to lose any more of my Purifiers on this God-forsaken mission."

"Let him work, Reverend," coaxed Colonel Wraith, "If we can safely extract Creed, we'll officially be back on track. I promise when you see what his resources, you'll know the losses you suffered today will not have been in vain."

"You had better be right, Wraith," threatened the Reverend.

The Colonel continued to exude confidence even if the Reverend didn't share it. He was not going to make light of this sudden reversal of fortune. To him, it was a sign. Fate was now on his side. Either that or the man who tried to screw him over did a lousy job of it.

'_I don't know what stunt you tried to pull, Shaw. All I know is you failed spectacularly. What I wouldn't give to see how pissed off he would be with you right now, Shanobi.'_

* * *

**Shaw Industries Corporate Headquarters – Secret Lab**

"Oh shit! Please don't let this be what it looks like."

"Mr. Ramsey, if this is another joke I'm _not_ laughing," said a very irritated Shanobi Shaw.

"Again, sir, it's no joke! I just lost the connection to Genosha," exclaimed Cypher, "The entire uplink has been severed. It's like someone cut the power _and_ backup power."

"So turn it back on!"

"I can't! It was cut from the other side. And I can't hack what isn't turned on."

Shanobi's once confident poise was shattered. The Genosha technology had been within his grasp and now it had been abruptly cut off. He could have strangled Cypher where he stood if he didn't have more immediate threats to worry about. Now those threats were a lot more severe because time was no longer on his side in his battle against the X-men.

This sudden shift in Shaw's fortune did not go unnoticed. Cyclops picked himself up and set his sights on Shaw and Warhawk. Emma was still facing her two disfigured Cuckoos and Phoenix was close by, having recovered from Shanobi's earlier attack. Now that the pieces were finally coming into place, they realized that Shanobi Shaw had a bigger agenda than they suspected.

"So _that's_ what this is about? Stealing Genosha technology?" said the X-leader angrily.

"You make it sound so illogical," scoffed Shanobi, "This isn't some dramatic mutant struggle. This is _business_. That deal has undermined Shaw Industries from day one."

"And that makes it okay to destroy it along with the fragile peace it's brought?"

"Whine all you want about peace. It'll _never _be as profitable as conflict."

Cyclops heard enough. If Wolverine was here he would have gone into a berserker rage by now. It was one thing to undermine the peace the X-men had worked so hard to defend, but doing it out of pure greed put Shanobi Shaw on a new level of evil.

"As if torturing Emma's daughters wasn't enough, I've officially run out of reasons _not_ to blast you into the East River," said Cyclops.

"Seeing as how I'm in a very foul mood, you're more than welcome to try," said Shanobi, cracking his knuckles.

"Not before I get my shot," said Warhawk.

The imposing figure didn't wait for Shanobi's orders. He immediately attacked Cyclops with his enhanced agility. This time the X-leader was ready for him. He fired a few concentrated shots that Warhawk was able to easily dodge. Just as before he ducked to the side and tried to swoop in for a punishing blow, but Cyclops didn't let him get to that point though. Once he got in close enough, he adjusted his visor and let out another optic blast. This time he fired at Warhawk with a wider arc that even advanced reflexes couldn't dodge. It caught Warhawk by surprise and he was sent flying.

"Augh!" he grunted as he hit the gurneys that once contained Sophie and Esme.

"I may miss once, but I _never_ miss twice," proclaimed Cyclops.

"That assumes you'll get a second shot. Since this operation has been a major disappointment, I intend to take my frustration out on you X-men," seethed Shanobi.

"By all mean," said the X-leader with a battle ready poise.

Shanobi adjusted his density so he could attack Cyclops with extra durability. As he approached in a rage, the X-leader unleashed another round of concentrated blasts. Unlike Warhawk, Shanobi didn't even try to dodge them. They hit head on, but did little to slow him down. His density was so great that he was immune from the damage of such blasts. It forced Cyclops to change his tactics.

Once Shanobi got in close, he tried to crush his enemy with a punishing haymaker. Cyclops was able to narrowly avoid it, watching as Shanobi left a large dent in the floor. The X-leader was forced to play defense, backing up and avoiding Shanobi's attacks while using his optic blasts to slow him down. It was a temporary tactic that wasn't going to win the fight, but it would buy time for his teammates.

"Emma! Phoenix! We need to finish this! What's happening on your end?" he called out.

"Sorry darling, but I don't think finishing this is possible anymore," lamented Emma.

The former X-man was oblivious to Cyclops's fight with Shanobi or even the revelation about him trying to steal Genosha's technology. She was too caught up in her confrontation with her estranged daughters.

The two girls who once shared Emma's natural beauty had been maimed beyond recognition by Shanobi's experiments. Since being released from their restraints, they crawled towards Emma with anger and pain in their eyes. Their disfigurement made it difficult for them to even stand up, but that wouldn't stop them. Emma didn't try to avoid them. She stayed in place, remaining in her non-diamond form so she could reach her girls telepathically.

'_Mother…you failed us.'_

'_You must suffer.'_

"Please, my girls…don't make me use discipline that we need to save for Shaw," she yelled, "This is Shanobi's handiwork talking! Not you!"

"Wrong!" seethed Esme in a sinister voice, "You had your chance. You left us behind."

"You must know our pain," yelled Sophie.

"Stop being selfish brats and listen to me!"

"We're _through_ listening!" the two girls yelled.

Esme and Sophie shot up and attacked their mother. Emma shifted to her diamond form, yet still wasn't able to stop the two girls from grasping onto her and clawing at her like a couple of rabid animals. She was inclined to push them off, but these were her daughters. A host of conflicting feelings kept her to fight back. All she could do was defend herself and listen to their pained cries.

"DIE MOTHER! ACCEPT YOUR PUNISHMENT!" yelled Esme.

"REMOVE THIS SHELL! WE'LL MAKE YOU AS UGLY AS YOU MADE US!" roared Sophie.

"Girls…stop this!" grunted Emma, using her arms to fight off the relentless clawing, "Let me help you. Stop helping Shanobi!"

They refused to listen. Since Emma couldn't use telepathy while in her diamond form, there was no way to reach them. Shaw had once again found a way to hurt her on a profound level. It was not a pleasant feeling and only deepened her hatred for him and what she nearly became.

Esme and Sophie kept clawing at their mother. However, their attack was abruptly halted when the two girls were pulled off Emma by a telekinetic force by Phoenix. She had recovered from the blow she endured earlier and decided to help Emma since Cyclops seemed to be holding his own against Shanobi.

"I hate to give you parenting tips, Emma. But it looks like these girls need discipline," she said as she suspended Esme and Sophie in mid-air.

"If only it were as simple as giving them a time out," she said with a groan upon returning to her feet, "Do you think you can hold them?"

"I'll throw some cosmic power just to make sure. Trust me, they're _not_ going anywhere."

Phoenix flashed a bit of her cosmic flames and focused her telekinesis so it formed a sizable bubble around Esme and Sophie. While they were disfigured and full of hate, they were no match for her psychic talents.

Now suspended about six feet off the floor, they continued to thrash and yell angrily. They never took their sights of Emma. They gazed at her with murderous intent, making clear all their pain and anguish they had suffered. For a moment she just stared back, taking in their hateful glares. She eventually shifted out of her diamond form so she could use her telepathy again. That seemed to be the only way she could reach her girls.

"FACE US, MOTHER! ACCEPT YOUR FATE!" yelled Esme.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, MOTHER!" cried Sophie.

"I want to believe that's Shaw's influence talking. If only I could allow myself to be _that _foolish," said Emma dryly, "You girls are definitely my daughters. You have in you the bitterness and drive that I've carried with me all my life. I had to re-learn how to love, care, and feel empathy again. If you let me, I can show you."

"YOU'VE NOTHING WE WANT!" they said in unison.

"You're immature brats who don't know what's good and decent. You only know the lies and treachery that Shaw has taught you," she said with a touch of maternal scorn, "Hate me all you want, you're still my daughters. I'm going to undo the damage Shanobi did. I'm not going to let you turn into what I nearly became."

There was a touch of anger mixed with her sorrow. Emma Frost wasn't about to let her maternal instincts make her weak. This was a personal mission in addition to being another desperate act of redemption.

With Phoenix holding the two girls tightly in her telekinetic grasp, Emma placed her hands on her temples. She concentrated hard, channeling as much of her telepathic talents as she could muster. She aggressively probed Esme and Sophie's mind, not bothering with subtlety or restraint. She had a lot of damage to sift through because of Shanobi's meddling. She refused to fail her daughters and give Shaw the satisfaction.

"Auggghhhhhhh! Get out…of my…head!" cried Esme.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh! It hurts! Stop it! I…will…kill you!" exclaimed Sophie.

'_Go ahead, girls. Let it out. It'll be over soon.'_

Emma relentlessly attacked their psychic defenses. Like her, Esme and Sophie were talented telepaths. Their minds had been pushed beyond their limits due to Shaw's handiwork. Because of this, their thoughts were a jumbled mess. There was no logic behind their emotions. Shanobi overloaded their minds so that only basic feelings like pain, anger, rage, and hatred could register. She wouldn't be surprised if he planned such torment from the beginning. Damage or no damage, Emma refused to accept that their minds were beyond repair.

Through intense focus, Emma sifted through Esme and Sophie's damaged psyche. She had to take them on at once since their minds were so deeply interlinked like that of Celeste, Mindee, and Phoebe. It was like trying to reprogram a computer blindfolded. Only a skilled mind could pull this off.

"Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" the two girls seethed.

"That's it, girls…we're almost there. Let your mother undo Shaw's treachery," grunted Emma.

Esme and Sophie could feel Emma reaching the deepest recesses of their minds. They could already feel thoughts and emotions being connected in ways they hadn't felt before. It was painful, disorienting, and downright traumatic. For their young and damaged minds, it was too much.

Just when Emma was on the verge of making some vital connections, the two girls linked their minds and channeled a massive outburst of psionic energy. Their eyes flashed bright red and their faces contorted with a new kind of rage as they unleashed the pent up energy.

"ENOUGH!" they both yelled.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Phoenix and Emma yelled out.

In an instant Emma was forced out of their minds and Phoenix's telekinetic hold on them was shattered. Both women fell to the floor, their heads throbbing from psychic exertion. However, Esme and Sophie remained hovering. They were now being held up by their own psionic energy and they kept gathering more.

"Ungh…I hope that's not a trick you taught the other Cuckoos," groaned Phoenix.

"It isn't. This is more of Shaw's handiwork," grunted Emma.

They were now more enraged than ever. With their eyes glowing bright red, they maneuvered themselves so they were hovering right over Emma. As they did, they unleashed massive pulses of psionic energy that ripped through the whole lab.

"NO MORE! IT…IT'S TOO MUCH!" they both cried out, "THIS MUST END! FOR ALL OF US!"

"I think they're losing it, Emma," exclaimed Phoenix.

"No…they never had _it_ to begin with," said Emma grimly.

More psionic waves ripped through the area. They were so powerful they knocked over tables, destroyed electronics, and disrupted the lights. Phoenix had to use her telekinesis to shield herself while Emma reverted back to her diamond form. This onslaught of psionic energy distracted Cypher from his computer array, knocking him clear out of his seat. It kept Warhawk down from the shot he took earlier and also affected the ongoing battle between Cyclops and Shanobi.

Shanobi hadn't been able to lay a hand on Cyclops since his battle began. The X-leader kept evading him while striking back him with a steady dose of optic blasts. Shanobi sensed Cyclops was trying to wear him down. He was a long way from doing so, but after seeing Esme and Sophie lose control he saw an opportunity to good to pass up.

"I've had enough of this," he said, "As much as I'd love to spar with you peasants, I'd rather not make this day any more disappointing."

"If you're going to try and run away, you're not just a coward. You're an idiot for thinking we won't come after you," said Cyclops as he hit him with another blast.

Shanobi easily absorbed the blast and grinned ominously.

"Look who's talking," he laughed, "You're an even bigger idiot for thinking I don't have an escape plan."

Cyclops tried to blast him again. This time Shanobi changed his density so he went completely intangible. This not only allowed Cyclops's blast to go right through him. It allowed Shanobi to literally run right through him. Once past him, Shanobi ran towards a special panel on the wall. He had to brave some punishing psionic waves in the process, but once he reached it he slammed his fist against a large red button on the panel. Almost immediately, a blaring alarm sounded.

"_Warning. Emergency sequence activated. Initiating protocol X-154."_

"Who's the idiot now?" Shanobi taunted, "Come along, Warhawk."

"You mean I don't get another shot at…"

"Not unless you want to be caught in the blast," yelled Shanobi.

Warhawk grunted angrily from the other side of the room, but followed Shanobi's orders. Using his agility, he followed him towards a special opening in the wall. Cyclops was poised to go after him, but he felt something tug on his foot.

"Wait!" yelled Doug Ramsey, who was still lying on the floor.

"Let go, kid! I have to…"

"No! I can help you," he said, "Shanobi has wired this whole area to blow. I can stop it…mostly anyways."

Cyclops grunted in frustration. He should have known Shanobi would do something this devious. He was his father's son after all. Looking over towards Emma and Phoenix, he saw that they were still in trouble. He couldn't leave them behind. He had to help them in any way he could. At the moment, this kid was their best bet.

"Can you give me a good reason trust you in under ten seconds?" said Cyclops.

"That asshole, Shanobi, left me behind and didn't even try help me escape with him. What do you think?" replied Cypher.

"Good enough for me," said the X-leader, "Now if you're going to do something, do it now. I doubt Shaw programmed a lot of leeway with this thing."

Cypher got up with the help of Cyclops and started typing furiously on his array. It was still active despite the damage caused by Esme and Sophie. Armed with his knowledge of codes and ability to break them, he tapped into the Shaw Industries network and prepared to shut down the self-destruct sequence. He was going to be cutting it close though.

Within seconds, they could already hear the hard rumbles of small explosions from the surrounding rooms. Shanobi wasn't just making an escape. He was covering his tracks. In the process he probably hoped to blow them up as well. Cypher wasn't about to give Shanobi that kind of satisfaction after having exploited his talents in one too many ways.

"I found the emergency hard lines. I'm almost there!" said Cypher.

"Well hurry! Those tremors are getting uncomfortably close," yelled Cyclops.

While Cypher worked furiously, Phoenix and Emma were left to confront Esme and Sophie. They barely noticed Shanobi getting away and the alarms threatening further destruction. They had a more immediate threat with these powerful yet damaged young girls. The pulsating psionic forces were getting more erratic. Emma and Phoenix tried to get through to them, but the barrier was too strong.

"ALL WILL PERISH! ALL WILL DIE! THE HURTING…WILL STOP!" cried the two girls, their voices now mixed with sorrow as well as anger.

"No! Don't give into the madness. You're my daughters. You're better than this!" Emma called out.

They still weren't responding. Emma was running out of ways to talk them down. With growing desperation, she turned back to Jean.

"Phoenix, now would be a great time to tap that cosmic power of yours," said Emma.

"I'm _trying_," said Phoenix as she struggled to concentrate, "So much psychic energy! I'll need a moment to…"

But that moment never came. Before Phoenix could utilize her cosmic abilities, a powerful explosion ripped through the area. It came from the ceiling right above them, which happened to be an area that Shanobi rigged with explosives. When it went off, it sent shockwaves and flames downward towards Esme and Sophie. In the blink of an eye, it completely consumed them.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" they exclaimed as their barrier broke.

"MY GIRLS!" cried Emma as she reached for them.

"EMMA!" Phoenix exclaimed.

Emma didn't even get a chance to go after them. The powerful blast from the explosion didn't let her. When Phoenix saw this, she instinctively put up a protective barrier. As she did this, Cypher finished deactivating the self-destruct sequence to prevent any further explosions.

"Got it! That should do it for the self-destruct sequence," proclaimed Cypher upon entering the final commands on the console.

An ominous silence fell over the room. The explosions stopped. The alarms went silent. However, the blast had completely consumed the two Stepford Cuckoos. In the process it stopped their psionic outburst. However, Emma could sense that it stopped more than that.

Through the flames she couldn't even see the outline of her girls. She didn't need to see them though. Her once dormant maternal instincts revealed the bitter truth. Esme and Sophie were right. She had failed.

"No…not like this," she said, her words wrought with sorrow, "Esme…Sophie…DAMN YOU, SHAW! DAMN YOU TO HELL!"

* * *

**Up next: Prison Break Part 3**


	5. Issue 102: Prison Break Part 3

**Issue #102  
Prison Break Part 3**

* * *

_Professor Charles Xavier has a dream. He seeks peace between humans and mutants. He formed the X-men to protect a world that hates and fears them, but he frequently finds himself at odds with authority figures, a hostile society, and even other mutants. Simple or not, attaining that dream is not easy. It comes with victories, defeats, and sometimes a little of both._

_Since the mutant nation Genosha forged a treaty that traded alien technology in exchange for peace, it has been a target. Many with various agendas have sought to undermine or exploit it. Colonel Wraith and his associate, Reverend William Stryker, are have done their share of exploiting. They took this technology and crafted an EMP bomb that allowed them to break into a prison complex in Colorado Springs so they could extract known anti-mutant zealot, Graydon Creed. In doing so, however, they had to work with Shanobi Shaw, who sought to undermine the Genosha treaty and steal their technology for his own selfish gain._

_Shanobi had been running Shaw Industries since his father's incapacitation at the hands of the X-men. The Genosha deal turned out to be a detriment to the company's operations. Seeking to succeed in his father's place, Shanobi used Colonel Wraith's plan against him. He tried to steal the plans for Genosha technology using Wraith's connections. He failed thanks to the combined efforts of Wolverine, Cyclops, Phoenix, and Emma Frost. However, this victory came at a price._

* * *

**Downtown Manhattan – Parking Garage**

The battle against Shaw's forces had come to a surprisingly lackluster end. For a moment, his forces seemed endless. They had the inexperienced students from the Academy of Tomorrow cornered. Hellion, Cannonball, Surge, and Sunspot were fighting hard in a confined area, trying to protect the Stepford Cuckoos while Emma and the X-men attempted to free Sophie and Esme. As the battle unfolded, they started to wear down. Shaw's security forces threatened to overwhelm them. Just when it looked like they were going to fail, an alarm sounded and the attack stopped.

"Whoa…what in the Sam Hill just happened?" wondered Cannonball as he watched the guards retreat.

"Would it be wishful thinking to say that we scared them off?" said Hellion.

"Don't be too full of yourself, Julian. There's no way it's _that_ simple," said Sunspot.

The three young mutants watched the guards trip over each other as they evacuated the parking garage. The sound of these alarms signaled something dire. It couldn't be as simple as a fire drill or a warning. These guys were in full retreat.

"No way this is another drill. Everybody move out!" said one of the guards.

"I knew this was going to happen. As soon as the X-men showed up, I just knew it!" said another as he shoved aside his associates and sprinted towards the entrance.

"Hurry up before Shaw docks our hazard pay!" yelled another guard.

It seemed pretty urgent. The students of Emma's Academy were starting to wonder if maybe they should be running as well.

"I'm guessing that alarm isn't the lunch bell," said Hellion, "You think maybe we should follow them?"

"Miss Frost specifically told us to stay here and defend the Cuckoos," said Cannonball strongly.

"Well what if that alarm means the every building on this block is about to blow up or something?"

"Compared to what Miss Frost may do to us if we screw up, I'll take that chance."

Tension ran high throughout the team. There was no telling what sort of trickery Shaw would pull. There was no guarantee that Emma Frost and the X-men could deal with it either. This being their first taste of combat, the young mutants stood paralyzed, uncertain of what to do now.

Then to their surprise, the alarm abruptly stopped. The parking lot went quiet again. At first Hellion, Cannonball, and Sunspot looked at each other in confusion. Then Surge, who had been keeping an eye on the Cuckoos, noticed something disturbing.

"Uh…guys?" she said, getting the attention of the three bickering boys, "I think you should come take a look at this."

"What is it, Surge? Are the girls alright?" asked Cannonball with renewed concern.

"I don't know. After what we saw from them earlier, I honestly don't have a clue," said Surge.

Cannonball, Hellion, and Sunspot rushed over. They arrived as Surge was removing the psychic amplifying helmets. They quickly noticed that Phoebe, Mindee, and Celeste weren't moving. They still looked alive, but something was very wrong. Tears were streaming from their eyes. It was as though a part of them had just died.

"Damn…guess whatever was hurting them earlier was just too much for them," said Sunspot.

"It happened as soon as the alarms went off. One minute they're in the middle of a psychic marathon and the next they just collapsed. I tried to add some juice to their helmets, but it didn't work," said Surge.

"What do you think it means? You don't think Miss Frost and the X-men are…"

"If that was the case, we would be in a _lot _more trouble by now," said Cannonball confidently, "I ain't ain't psychic, but I've got a sinking feeling that something _really_ bad just happened on their end."

* * *

**Shaw Industries Secret Lab**

Destruction had consumed Shanobi's lab. Everything was in ruin. The computers had all shut down. Most of the lights had been blown out. A number of explosions had rocked the building, severely shaking the whole area. But one explosion in particular delivered a devastating blow to the X-men and especially to Emma Frost.

"I won't leave my girls them behind!" said Emma as she braved the chaotic scene.

The dust had yet to set. The explosion devastated nearly half the lab. It caused portions of the ceiling to fall in, causing it to pile up in a twisted heap of metal and mortar. The whole structure looked unstable, but the danger did not dissuade Emma. Still in her diamond form, she sifted through the debris in search of Esme and Sophie.

Across the lab, Cyclops and Phoenix watched anxiously. Cypher was with them as well. He had been kind enough to betray Shanobi and stop the self-destruct protocols before they were caught in the blast. He didn't fully grasp what was going on, but he was smart enough to understand it wasn't good and it wasn't in his best interest to side with Shaw.

"Um…not to sound insensitive here, but what the hell is going on?" asked Cypher.

"Those girls…they were Emma's daughters," said Cyclops distantly, "Phoenix, how bad is it?"

"Based on what I sensed…pretty bad. If not the worst," said Phoenix sadly, "Shanobi just had to one-up his father in some way. I guess that meant taking take something from Emma as well."

"Does that mean they're…" said Cyclops, allowing his words to trail off so he wouldn't have to say it.

"No…but they probably wish they were," said Phoenix grimly.

The two X-men rushed towards the debris with Cypher following close behind. As they approached, Emma found what she was looking for. Two mangled bodies lay trapped under a mound of brick and metal shards. One was burnt beyond recognition while the other had shrapnel lodged in her torso and legs. Emma was no doctor, but it was obvious that these injuries were serious and fatal. Even so, she clawed through the debris in an effort to get to her daughters.

Every piece felt heavier than the last. In her diamond form it was impossible for her to cry. For that reason, she stayed in this form so that she wasn't overwhelmed with sobs that would render a weaker woman paralyzed. As she cleared the debris for the two bodies, she noticed some movement in one of them. It was the body which hadn't been horribly burnt. Emma picked up on some weak thoughts to discover it was Sophie.

"Hnn…mother," she said in a barely audible voice.

"I'm here, Sophie. I'm unfashionably late, but I'm here," said Emma, holding back her emotions as best she could.

"It…it hurts. Everything hurts. Nothing…makes sense."

"I know," Emma told her daughter.

"Esme…she's dead, isn't she?"

"Yes," she said flatly.

Sophie's already bloodied complexion writhed in pain. However, her injuries were so severe it was hard for her to express these pained emotions. Her body was twisted in an unnatural position, indicating a broken leg and a damaged spine. Her face also had a gaping wound right on her forehead. Along with the deformations caused by Shanobi's atrocities, she already looked like a corpse.

Despite this grim state, Emma knelt down and took the wounded young girl in her arms. She remained in her diamond form, cradling her as if she was a baby. In a ways she was still a baby. This girl had been brought into this world without ever knowing her mother's touch. She had every right to be angry. She did not deserve this grim fate.

"Are…are you satisfied now? You've won," said Sophie through her pain.

"I didn't want this for you. I didn't want this for _any_ of my girls. This was all because of Shaw!" Emma said strongly.

"Wrong…it _was _you. I…I sense it. All this pain…it's all because of _you_."

"I tried to save you, damn it! Don't make me call you an ungrateful brat when you're dying in my arms."

"You could never…save me. Even before today…you were already…too late," she said through a light cough, "You must…suffer. You must know…what Esme and I went through. You must feel what we felt."

"But I _am_ suffering. I failed you. I'm holding in your final moments. Isn't that enough?!" exclaimed Emma.

"No…not enough…not even close," said Sophie as she weakly reached up to grasp her mother's face, "Esme and I…just like you. Guilt, sorrow, regret…we struggle to feel it. You hide behind that diamond shell…because you're weak. Because of that weakness…you doomed us. For Esme…for my sisters…I must…hurt you."

Those were Sophie's last words. As her hand reached for Emma's solemn face, she exhaled her last breath. Her weak yet powerful words stung Emma in a way from which her diamond shell could not protect her. This girl had been created through her own flesh and blood without her knowledge or consent. Shaw was the one that used them, but somehow Sophie and Esme came to hate her with a level of malice that was all too familiar.

For much of her life, Emma avoided any emotion that made her weak. That included emotions like compassion, empathy, guilt, and sorrow. She only began to learn how to feel them again with the X-men. But in this painful moment, all those emotions she avoided came rushing back. It stung in a way she could not avoid. And this time, Emma didn't try to avoid it.

These two girls, her own daughters, embodied her worst attributes. Shaw made sure that they were imbued with everything that almost made her his White Queen. But unlike her, Esme and Sophie never had a chance at redemption. Emma wanted to blame Shaw for this madness, but that didn't change the cold hard truth. She was their mother and she failed them.

"Rest easy, girls. Your pain is over now," said Emma distantly as she closed Sophie's eyes, "Consider yourselves lucky."

Emma Frost fell into a solemn silence. She did not shift away from her diamond form. Doing so would reveal too many emotions that would have rendered her weak. She couldn't be weak at a time like this. She refused to give Shaw the satisfaction.

As she knelt solemnly over the bodies of her daughters, Cyclops and Phoenix approached her while Cypher stayed back. The two X-men had their share of differences with Emma. She betrayed them during the conflict with the Inner Circle, but she was still a big part of their lives and she had a special place in the history of the X-men. Despite her harsh personality, they still saw her as a friend. Rare moments like this brought out a side of Emma Frost that only they knew. Being among the few who got to see this side of her, they offered their comfort.

"I'm sorry, Emma. I…wish there was something we could have done," said Cyclops, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Don't even try to feel any guilt over this, Scott. This is my failure and mine alone," said Emma, pushing his hand off her shoulder.

"Don't even try to bear the full burden, Emma. You know we're not going to let you torment yourself like that," said Phoenix strongly.

"Why the hell not? I had _five_ daughters. _Five_! That's all I'll ever be able to have because of Shaw. Now I've lost two!"

"No Emma…you didn't lose them. They were _taken _from you," Phoenix went on, offering a gesture of her own, "Shanobi made sure you never had them to begin with. You can't feel guilty for someone else's atrocities."

"But I _should_ feel that guilt," she said, her pained voice showing even through her diamond form, "I've done so many terrible things. I've resisted feeling any kind of remorse. By definition, that makes me a sociopath."

"You're feeling remorse now. By that same definition, you're nothing of the sort," said Cyclops.

"It's still way less than I deserve to feel. Sophie and Esme should have hurt me more. It would at least _partially_ make up for being a cold-hearted bitch."

"That cold-hearted bitch risked her life and so much more to not become the person that Shaw wanted her to be. You've already succeeded in that respect. Don't let this distract you from how far you've come," said Cyclops.

The X-leader knelt down so that he was now eye-to-eye with his former lover. He still saw in her the woman he shared many passionate nights with. That woman came a long way from who she was when she first joined the X-men. Seeing her like this tore at his heart, but it also reminded him why Emma Frost was such a special woman.

"You're hurting, Emma. We get that," said Phoenix, "But just because you're hurting doesn't mean you have to _suffer_."

"Listen to your ex-boyfriend, Emma. I know that goes against every instinct every woman has ever had, but he's right," said Phoenix.

"Say what you want about what you deserve, it doesn't change the woman you are. You convinced me and your daughters that you still have a heart…even if you hide it behind a diamond shell. Don't let Shaw take that from you as well."

Emma fell silent. She wasn't the kind to break down in tears, even with the dead bodies of her daughters lying before her. She kept staring at the bodies, reflecting on all the ways she failed them. Then she looked towards Cyclops. Phoenix was still behind her, a gentle hand still on her shoulder. These two had many reasons to hate her, yet they still treated her like a friend and teammate. It brought out a rare feeling of vulnerability and solace for Emma Frost. Even if she didn't deserve it, she still embraced it.

No more words were said as they stood with her over the bodies of Esme and Sophie. Shaw's agenda, the Genosha deal, and every complication in between fell to the wayside. Just as the Cuckoos had changed Emma's life forever, the loss of her daughters was sure to change it even more.

* * *

**Colorado Springs Prison Complex – Outer Walls**

"You're running out of room, you puny shits! Keep running and you'll just die tired!" bellowed the booming voice of Juggernaut.

"Don't stop! Don't look back!" urged the lead operative of the now decimated Isaiah unit.

The Purifiers were nearing the end of this cursed mission. They had the unconscious Graydon Creed in their possession, but his extraction came at a high price. The seemingly ingenious plan that knocked out the entire prison personnel with a psychic attack and cut the power had an unexpected consequence. It released a very angry Juggernaut from his prison cell. Four of their brothers had fallen. While they were left to God now, the rest of them had to content with this demonic monstrosity.

They had just made it out of the back entrance where they came in. The rest of their brothers were in sight. They had just deployed the special extraction balloon that was supposed to get them out of this hell. With the plane nowhere in sight and Juggernaut closing fast, it seemed God's grace had run out.

"Stay back, brothers. The beast is closing fast!" yelled the lead operative.

"We'll cover you. Just get Brother Creed to us!" said the six operatives of the Eziekiel unit, all of whom had their weapons armed ready.

"YOU'RE WASTING YOUR TIME…ALL TEN SECONDS OF IT!" roared a powerful voice from within the building.

The lead operative and his fellow Purifier barely made it halfway to the others when Juggernaut came bursting out of the complex. There was no subtlety to his madness. This monster of a man plowed right through the door and part of the wall as well, leaving a gaping hole in the structure to demonstrate his immense strength.

The Ezekiel unit could not hide their awe and horror of such power. He was glowing in an ominous pink halo of energy. He seemed all but invincible, as if powered by the forces of Hell itself. He set his sights on the Purifiers, cracking his oversized knuckles in preparation for his attack.

"Ahhh fresh air!" Juggernuat proclaimed, "I know you're out there, Uncle Charlie. These goons of yours sure aren't putting up a fight. I'll remember to mail you their bodies _in pieces_!"

"God help us," gasped one of the Purifiers.

"We will be delivered," said the lead operative confidently as he arrived with Graydon Creed, "Have faith and prepare to fight to the death. We're on a crusade. We must be willing to face the devil himself!"

"I can't imagine the devil being much worse than _this_," groaned another.

The six men stood defiantly, holding their guns with fear they dared not show. They watched with their fingers on the trigger as Juggernaut began his attack. They had the outer walls of the complex behind him so there was nowhere to run. They also had the special balloon that Colonel Wraith's aircraft needed to hook onto if it was to extract them. That meant they had to hold their ground to the last breath.

The Purifiers braced themselves while the lead operative strapped Graydon Creed to his body with a special clip in preparation for the extraction. The ground literally shook with each step Juggernaut took. He was getting close. Then a message from Reverend Stryker came in through the radio.

"_My brothers, are you in position?"_

"Yes Brother Stryker. We're ready!" exclaimed the lead operative, "Where is the plane? Juggernaut is closing fast!"

"_Try not to worry. Tell me, is this Juggernaut monstrosity wearing a helmet?"_

The lead operative was stunned by such a question. It seemed like trivial information at this point, but he answered none-the-less.

"No Brother Stryker, he is not. Why do you ask? We need help this instant!"

"_And you'll get it. Just make sure everyone still has the psychic dampeners in their helmets active and prepare for extraction."_

The Reverend's voice sounded confident. The lead operative tried to share that confidence, but that was difficult with Juggernaut bearing down on them. He gazed over towards his men and nodded. They loyally stood their ground as they had been trained to do. They all trusted Reverend Stryker. They had an unyielding faith that he would honor that trust.

The Purifiers were prepared to fire their weapon as Juggernaut came within less than fifty feet of them. Then their deliverance came when the guard tower above becoming active again. Just as Juggernaut was about to reach the Purifiers, one of the blinding search lights maneuvered via automatic gears so that it was shining on the hulking figure. It was so bright that Juggernaut had to slow down and shield his eyes.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" he cursed, "You think blinding me to death will save you?"

"_This_ is the Reverend's deliverance?" said one of the Purifiers anxiously.

"Wait for it," said another Purifier confidently.

Atop the guard tower a spherical device started moving. Then another smaller light on top of it was aimed right at Juggernaut. Once it locked on, it unleashed a powerful blue pulse wave. It did nothing to affect the Purifiers, but it hit Juggernaut with a familiar pain.

"Auuuugggghhhhhh! Not again!" he exclaimed as he clutched his head.

"What in God's name just happened?" asked one of the Purifiers.

"More than deliverance, it seems," grinned the lead operative, "This monstrosity is being punished for not having psychic dampening helmets like ours."

The Purifiers took a perverse satisfaction in watching this monster languish in pain. He killed their brothers. He cared nothing for his fellow man. He may not even be a man anymore. He was a lost soul who deserved every ounce of God's wrath.

"Hnn…knew I should have…picked up my helmet," groaned Juggernaut, "Damn you, Uncle Charlie. Get you…next time."

The unstoppable behemoth sauntered for another minute or so. Without his helmet, the psychic onslaught lulled Juggernaut into a deep unconscious state. He fell unceremoniously to the hard ground, stopping his rampage before it started. The eight remaining Purifiers could finally breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed this hellish ordeal was almost over. As they gathered themselves, Reverend Stryker's voice once again echoed through their radios.

"_I take it by your lack of screaming that our emergency tactics worked."_

"Affirmative, Brother Stryker. The Juggernaut has been subdued."

"_Then it would seem our friend, Arcade, has come through once more. We should feel blessed and encouraged. For once Charles Xavier has done us a favor by providing this complex a means to subdue this monstrosity."_

"For the sake of our souls, I hope we don't have to rely on such favors too often," said the lead operative, "I only wish we had time to spite him further for what he did to our brothers."

"_We won't have that chance today, but I promise there will be others. Now that we have Graydon Creed on our side, we'll have plenty soon enough."_

"Praise the Lord, Reverend. But how is he going to help our crusade?"

"_That you do not need to know. Right now, the gunship should be coming into view. Standby for retrieval. We must be gone from this god-forsaken place before any other heathens oppose us."_

"Affirmative, Brother Styrker. For God and humanity!"

Within minutes, the Purifiers saw the large C-130 gunship closing in from above. The balloon suspended above them was now hooked to every one of them and they were ready for extraction. The mission was complete. There was still plenty of work to be done. As always, God would be on their side in their crusade against the mutant menace.

* * *

**Later**

By the time the X-men arrived at the prison complex, the chaos had ceased. The setting was eerily quiet. The complex was only partially lit to reveal the extent of the destruction. It was very different from what the X-men expected. Even with the recent enhancements to the X-jet, they were still too late.

They landed just inside the front gate. Beast settled the jet into a silent hover so they could investigate the situation. They were in combat-ready mode, but were surprised to find no battles to fight. Every guard, officer, and worker was out cold. They didn't appear to have any injuries. They were just in a deep sleep. There were still signs of a major struggle. There were gaping holes on the side of the building, no doubt Juggernaut's handiwork. But he had already been subdued. Whatever battle had taken place here was over and done with.

"Dang…looks like we missed a hell of a party," commented Gambit as the team scouted the area.

"I know. We actually don't have to do any fighting this time," said Iceman, "Am I weird for _not_ feeling relieved?"

"You make snow cones out of mayonnaise for deserts. Weird is an obscenely relative concept for us," said Shadowcat.

"Hey! Are you knocking mayonnaise?"

"Let's not have _that_ fight, Iceman," scolded Storm, "You're not the only one with that feeling either. Fight or no fight, we must find out what happened here."

"Well it wasn't a drill. That's for damn sure. I'm detecting a psychic blackout for every mind in a five mile radius of this base," said Psylocke, who had been doing telepathic scans since they landed.

"It would also appear the power has been knocked out. I suspect there the attack involved a powerful electro-magnetic pulse," added Beast as he assessed the state of the complex.

"Does that mean Magneto was behind this?" asked Colossus warily.

"Anything with electro-magnetic in it usually be his calling card," said Shadowcat as he assessed the perimeter of the complex.

"It's a disturbing possibility, but highly unlikely. Magneto usually makes a much grander spectacle. What we have here is a classic covert operation. For a complex of this nature, it had to be well-planned, well-timed, and well-executed."

"And equipped to take down Juggernaut," added Gambit, "Take a look over here."

Storm, Iceman, Shadowcat, Psylocke, Colossus, and Beast caught up with Gambit, who scouted out ahead towards the main complex. They arrived to find Juggernaut lying flat on his back, out cold and not yelling at the top of his lungs about how he was going to kill Professor Xavier. It was a relief to see that he was already subdued, but at the same time it posed some distressing questions.

"Whoa…someone _else_ took out Juggernaut?" said Iceman, "I don't know if I should be relieved or terrified."

"He _is_ out though, right? He's not just sleeping or anything?" asked Shadowcat intently.

Psylocke placed her hand over Juggernaut's head and did a quick scan.

"Far as I can tell, he's was on the receiving end of a punishing telepathic blast," she surmised, "Not a very clean one though. It feels…artificial."

"That's to be expected. Charles did mention something about providing psychic defenses to the prison complex that originally housed Juggernaut," said Beast.

"Wait a sec…so Juggy here got taken out by the prison defenses and none of these here guards were even awake to see it?" questioned Gambit.

"Maybe they got a little trigger happy?" Iceman shrugged.

"I doubt it," said Psylocke as she did more scans, "Based on the psychic traces I'm sensing, there were two major telepathic attacks on this place. Both were artificial. I suspect the first one took everybody out. The second one took out Juggernaut."

"And you are sure of this?" questioned Colossus.

"I'm a powerful psychic and a criminology major. I'm sure," said Psylocke confidently.

"And we don't doubt your detective skills, Psylocke. But the question remains…who else was here to spark this conflict?" said Storm.

The possibilities were disturbing. There had very clearly been a struggle here. Looking towards the main complex, they saw the path of destruction Juggernaut left in his wake. Judging by the amount of rubble, he had been on a real rampage. It was like he was chasing something. Whatever or whoever it may have been, they were long gone.

The X-men were in an awkward position. It wouldn't be long before these guards and everyone started waking up. It also wouldn't be long before General Grimshaw found out about this attack and began an investigation of his own. Something big was unfolding. Between Cyclops and Phoenix's mission and the uptick in activity on Genosha, there were signs of a major conflict brewing.

"So what do we do? Is it too late to catch up for those responsible for instigating this mess?" asked Colossus.

"For now, I think it is safe to assume they escapled," sighed Beast, "We should probably stick around anyhow for when General Grimshaw's reinforcements arrive."

"We'll also have to help get Juggernaut back in his cell," said Storm, "So long as we're here, we might as well make sure he doesn't go on another rampage."

"Didn't Professor Xavier say that Graydon Creed was imprisoned here too?" said Shadowcat.

"That Friends of Humanity nutcase?" groaned Iceman, "How much do you want to bet he's _not_ in his cell?"

"Sorry homme, but Remy don't take sucker bets," said Gambit.

"I'm sure we'll find our share of distressing clues. For now, this mission has turned into a clean-up operation," said Storm assertively, "I'll radio the Professor and give him a status update. I'm sure he'll want to know everything for when he confronts Grimshaw."

It sounded like a somewhat tedious plan. It was another difficult aspect of this new status quo between mutants and the MSA. They had to jump through the assorted hoops that men like Grimshaw laid out for them.

"Bloody fantastic…instead of an epic battle, we're stuck on cleanup," sighed Psylocke as she prepared to help move Juggernaut.

"It could be worse, cherè," said Gambit, who prepared to help her.

"That might not be an appropriate assessment, Mr. Lebeau," said Beast distantly as the X-men went to work, "For all we know this ordeal is already worse than we think it is."

* * *

**Genosha – Outside Military Base**

Wolverine's trips to military bases were rarely pleasant. More often than not, he left with his share of bruises. His latest tour of the military base on Genosha had been no exception. After storming the gate, convincing an officer to take him to the network hub, and severing the connection in a not-so-subtle way, he hardly ingratiated himself to the authorities. His brazen actions got him forcibly escorted off the base and back on the dock. It only came as a minor surprise to find Wanda Maximoff along with Alex and her brother there waiting for him.

"You really know how to make a poor impression, Wolverine. Why Charles Xavier chose you as his diplomat makes me question his judgment even more than yours," scolded Wanda with a look in her eyes that indicated a burning desire to hex him.

"Can't argue with results," said Wolverine dryly.

"Excuse me, but how exactly did crippling Genosha's computer systems _work_?"

"Not that I care to defend this asshole, but it _did _stop an attack," said Alex, "I spoke with the Major. He said someone was on the verge of reaching the Warlock network. Do you have any idea how screwed we would be if someone stole that data?"

"Figures you would approve of his methods," muttered Pietro.

"Sometimes cleaning up a mess is a lot easier than recovering from a lost battle…especially when it's a battle we can't afford to lose," Alex pointed out.

He made it seem justified. Alex was usually okay with ignoring the logistics when it came to results, but Wanda couldn't afford that luxury. She was the leader of this nation and she was responsible for this deal. Wolverine's actions were sure to create a lot of extra headaches on top of the ones she had been dealing with already.

Wanda had Alex and Pietro corner the hot-headed X-man just outside the base. He was still being monitored by armed soldiers near the main gate. A few more members of the Brotherhood were right there with her to help with this tense situation if needed. Mercury and Mellencamp stood behind her, ready to arrest Wolverine before the military got their hands on him. However, that decision was not theirs to make.

"I need a moment," groaned Wanda, walking away for a minute to collect herself, "I know you did the right thing, Wolverine. I'm still fighting the urge to hex you in ways I usually reserve for my brother."

"If it'll make you feel better, by all means. Wouldn't be the worst feeling I've had these past few months," said Wolverine as he sat casually on the steps leading up to the base.

"And you guys say _I'm_ messed up," scoffed Pietro.

"At least he's honest about it," Alex pointed out, earning him some heavy scorn from the speedster.

"I'm not sure of I should be flattered or disturbed," said Wanda, ignoring her brother's remarks, "You're lucky I got a call from Charles before I came here. He explained the rather complicated details. This was a pretty elaborate attack that targeted much more than just Genosha. I doubt we would have picked up on it in time to do anything less brazen."

"That gonna get me a metal or something?" said Logan dryly.

"It'll give me an excuse not to arrest you or turn you over to the military," she said, turning back to face the former living weapon, "Believe me when I say that if my father were running things, this would have been a lot _messier_."

"And here I was thinking you were a daddy's girl," the feral mutant remarked.

"Only to a point," said Wanda, "Since I hear you've been drunk for a most of these last few months, allow me to give you a refresher, Wolverine. I'm trying to build a nation for our people. I'm trying to turn Genosha into a country where mutants can live freely and prosper. In order to do that I need to maintain this treaty."

"So you're compromising instead of resorting to genocide?" surmised Logan, "I take back what I said about you being a daddy's girl."

"I'll gladly exchange blood for technology so humans are placated with cell phones, video games, cosmetics, and whatever else they find distracting. Warlock gives us that luxury every time it churns out more parts. Because of this, most of my job doesn't involve ruling this nation as much as it involves keeping that tech flowing. Make no mistake though…I will _not_ let anyone mess it up. So if you're going to be Xavier's new watchman, you're going to play by my rules. Understand?"

Wanda's eyes flashed ominously with some hexing energy. It was her way of showing that she didn't appreciate Logan's recklessness and wouldn't hesitate to come down on him if he got out of line. It wasn't unlike the speeches he heard from the Cyclops or Professor Xavier. Unlike them, Wanda was someone he fought against as an enemy. She did not have his respect and he didn't seem to have hers either.

For a moment, they continued to stare each other down. Wanda maintained her assertive poise. Wolverine remained stern, but didn't push his luck. This was not something to take lightly. This wasn't just a mission on the behest of Charles Xavier. It was his way of clawing out of the stupor he had been languishing in for too long.

"I got one more question for you, Maximoff. Then we should be good," said Wolverine.

"And what might that be?" she asked with plenty of reservation.

"If I'm gonna be under someone's thumb, can we at least get some beer in this dump? It would make this a hell of a lot more bearable for both of us."

Wanda groaned and rolled her eyes. Some of the Brotherhood behind her laughed. She still questioned Xavier's decision to choose Wolverine to oversee their operations. He was every bit the ill-mannered brute he appeared to be, even if his methods were effective on occasion. That was bound to make her job that much more difficult.

"Just be mindful of where you are, Wolverine," said Wanda strongly, "I'm willing to work with the X-men, but not if it's more trouble than it's worth."

"Whatever, Miss Scarlet Emperor or whatever you call yourself," said Wolverine flatly, "Don't expect me to slack on my mission though. I'm more serious about it than you think."

"Yes, I'm sure you're _so_ dedicated," said Pietro dryly.

Wolverine snarled at the speedster as he and Wanda left the feral mutant to his own devices. It seemed he would avoid being arrested or turned over to the authorities. Wolverine did some significant damage and caused quite a scene. However, the former living mutant could care less about how despised he was on this island, If he was going to be patrolling this place on Xavier's behalf, then they were going to have to get used to it.

While the others walked off, Alex stuck around. Having been guilty of a few brazen actions himself, he was a bit more understanding. He may not have liked the guy and the side he fought for. That didn't mean he couldn't appreciate his bravado.

"Looks like you're going to have plenty of enemies here, Wolverine," Alex commented.

"Throw me on another dissection table and find a piece of me that gives a damn," muttered Wolverine.

"Still, it may make your job easier if you _tried_ to get along with at least someone here on this island."

"Like you?" scoffed the feral mutant, "I already butt heads with your brother at least twice a day. Why the hell would you want us to get along?'

"Ignoring the fact that I've been butting heads with my brother a hell of a lot longer, I know actually know where you're coming from. I also know where they hide the imported European beer on this island."

Wolverine looked at Alex with suspicious intrigue. He was usually very skeptical when it came to trusting someone outside the X-men, especially if they were part of the Brotherhood. However, when imported beer entered the equation, his skepticism was vastly downplayed.

"European eh?" he said with a wolfish grin, "Never thought I'd say this to a Summers, but you're all right."

* * *

**Xavier Institute – War Room**

The partnership between the X-men and the authorities had always been tenuous. Ever since Robert Kelly was elected President of the United States, this fragile relationship had been continually tested. Even with the Genosha treaty in place, they were always just a few slip-ups away from disaster.

They did their part to help the Mutant Security Agency maintain the peace, holding mutants accountable to the law, and protect the treaty that kept this frail prosperity going. But when something went wrong, Professor Xavier and his team had to answer to people who did not always have the purest of ideals.

General Nathan Grimshaw was never one for ideals. For him, ideals were the stuff of fantasy. He was all about tangible results. Indifference was the only viabley position when it came to human/mutant affairs. That made him a tenuous ally at best. When things went wrong, such a simultaneous attack on Genosha and a secure prison complex, he was not nearly as pleasant to work with. So when Professor Xavier called him up in the War Room, it was a foregone conclusion that this was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

"_You're giving me an awful long list bad news and screw-ups, Professor Xavier. Explain to me again how you know this cyber-attack was linked to the break-in at the prison complex? Which, I might add, has made everyone in the Pentagon a nervous wreck."_

"I never said I knew there was a connection. I only said I suspect as such," said Professor Xavier, who was speaking to a holographic image of the General through the main computer, "My X-men have cooperated with the forces on the ground in Colorado. In addition to helping contain Juggernaut, they made some intriguing discoveries."

"_Are you talking about those dead mangled bodies they found in the mid-level security wing? The same bodies that didn't have a trace of identifying markers on them?"_

"They were found in the same area where Graydon Creed was being held and now he's escaped and unaccounted for. If you don't consider that an indication of a much larger conflict, then I say your standards are too high."

The Professor fought to restrain himself. General Grimsahw was a frustrating man at times. His indifference made discourse a challenge at best. Graydon Creed was an anti-mutant zealot who was a threat to mutants everywhere. That concern seemed to be only secondary to him.

"_I'm not trying to bust your chops here. Creed's escape bothers me. However, there's only so much bother I can manage when I have no idea who the hell is behind it."_

"Until we process those bodies, we do have other leads to pursue," said Xavier strongly, "My X-men have also been involved in an investigation of Shaw Industries and we've concluded the cyber-attack originated from the office of Shanobi Shaw. From what Cyclops and Phoenix have told me, this man went to _disturbing_ lengths to hack Genosha's network. It makes a good deal of sense because his company has been among the hardest hit by the influx of Warlock technology."

"_I admit there's plenty of incentive. Shaw Industries does have a history of using less-than-ethical business practices that also tend to be blatantly illegal."_

"But you're not going to investigate their operations, are you?" surmised Xavier.

"_You're damn good psychic, Professor. You're also painfully ignorant of the bureaucratic mess guys like me have to sift through. Don't get me wrong. I would love to storm every office of Shaw Industries and hit them up on a long list charges. There have been rumors about illegal operations for decades. The problem is Shaw Industries has more lawyers than I have soldiers. They also have no fewer than 200 congressmen in their back pockets."_

"So what do you propose? Surely this isn't an incident that can be swept under the rug."

"_It won't be ignored, I assure you. An incident like this is an eye-opener to say the least. It shows we're a lot more vulnerable than we thought and my relying on the X-men to pick up the slack wasn't as effected as I thought."_

Professor Xavier sensed some not-so-subtle apprehension in General Grimshaw's tone. As reasonable a man he was, the General did not have a forgive-and-forget policy. He saw this as a failure of their current arrangement. Perhaps he was right to be upset. The X-men had been pushing themselves in ways they weren't used to. The challenge of this Genosha treaty was evolving faster than their ability to adapt. It may be the case that they both overestimated the X-men's ability to pick up the slack that the MSA couldn't manage.

"General, I understand you're frustrated. I am too," said Xavier, maintaining a reasonable tone, "But I hope that in your frustrated state you don't make any rash decisions."

"_I never do anything rashly, Xavier. I take whatever measures I must to complete the mission."_

"Within reason, I hope," Xavier retorted.

"_I have lines I don't cross, but those lines are subject to change as the mission changes. Don't expect me to completely shut you out, but one thing is becoming all too apparent…you need me a lot more than I need you. You can't expect to resolve these issues by throwing on fancy uniforms and playing vigilante."_

"By that same token, I'm starting to wonder if you're making this conflict a bit too _militarized_ if that's the right word," retorted Xavier.

"_Now that some major economic and political interests are in play, that development may be unavoidable."_

"That doesn't mean it's a good thing."

"_I never said it was. We're both playing a dangerous game here, Xavier. The line between mutant conflict and your standard geopolitical nightmare is getting real blurry. Maybe that's better for your side than mine because it puts mutants front and center. At this point we can't turn against one another without disrupting the fragile order we're fighting tooth and nail to maintain."_

"Now you're playing the victim?" said the Professor with a touch of sarcasm.

"_I'm painting you a picture that I hope you can see without me writing you a novel. This incident shows we've got some very complicated forces working against us. In order to deal with it, one of us has to step up. Since your X-men don't appear to be up to the task, the MSA will have to carry the torch."_

"And you believe you're people can handle it after the cunning we've both seen in men like Shaw and Graydon Creed?"

"_Unlike you, we have the backing of the military and the law. I admit it's not what I envisioned the MSA to be. However, it serves the same purpose. I want to keep this world from descending into chaos and I'll do that with or without your support. Is that clear?"_

The General sounded like he was giving the Professor a warning rather than an assessment. He had to minimize incidents like this or risk leaving mutant affairs to an organization he could not control or influence. It put Charles Xavier and the X-men in a difficult position. They couldn't just be heroes anymore. They had to accommodate the missions of the MSA. It was not at all part of the dream he had been fighting for with his X-men all these years, but at this point there was no avoiding it.

"We're clear, General," said Xavier in a conflicted tone.

"_Glad we understand each other. Now officially, I have to file a report about this incident and you can expect some changes to our operations. If you want any say in influencing those changes, you and the X-men will find some answers. I expect to be kept in the loop every step of the way."_

"As always, we'll do our best," sighed the Professor, "I still find it troubling that you're placing the burden on our shoulders when you're the one with greater resources."

"_Like I said before, the conflict is changing fast. Either adapt or face extinction. You of all people should understand that. Over and out."_

General Grimshaw's holographic image faded, leaving Charles Xavier to contemplate the bigger picture. The General didn't leave much room for negotiations. He was frustrated and his trust in the X-men had been shaken. If they were to get it back, then they had to earn it.

Based on what Beast and Storm told him from their investigation in Colorado, they had no leads as to who was behind the infiltration. All they knew is that Gradyon Creed was missing. Some answers may reside with Shanobi Shaw, but he got a similar story from Cyclops and Phoenix. Shanobi destroyed the incriminating evidence, including the two girls Emma Frost told him about. Overall, they had precious little to go on. There was only a certainty that something much worse would likely come of this.

'_Adapt, he says. Somehow doing the right thing just won't get the job done anymore. The tragedy of it all is that he may be right. Being heroes simply isn't enough.'_

* * *

**Pentagon – Mutant Security Agency Hub**

General Nathan Grimshaw remained in a bad mood after finishing his holographic meeting with Charles Xavier. He sat fuming behind the desk of his recently completed office. Captain Jack Freeman was with him, being the only man he trusted to be brutally honest in a situation like this.

General Grimshaw didn't like staring down Charles Xavier. He and his X-men usually had his respect even if they didn't have his trust. Now that respect was shaken. There were a lot of moving parts to maintaining the Genosha treaty and guiding the public sentiments towards mutants. For the most part, Xavier showed that he and the X-men could handle it. Now it seemed they had reached their limits and it came a lot sooner than he would have liked.

"Need me to get you some coffee, sir? Or perhaps a Swedish Massage? I'm not liking the way the veins in your head are throbbing," said Captain Freeman.

"I don't need relief from the stress, Captain. If anything, I need more. Stress is supposed to be a motivator," said the General strongly.

"Ignoring the ridiculous flaws in your understanding of health, would you think less of me if I said you were a little harsh?"

"I don't look down on anyone who smells bullshit when others don't," Grimshaw replied, "Maybe I was harsh, but Xavier is putting me in a hell of a position. If his X-men can't prevent incidents like this, then we're the ones that have to be proactive."

"And that's a bad thing?" the Green Beret questioned.

"Only to the extent that being proactive means taking measures that could take the MSA down some very slippery slopes."

"And if I were to drop the issue now, will you spare me the details?"

"I'd rather not ignore them, Captain. The MSA is already expanding in ways I didn't plan. Now we're running into political brick walls with guys like Graydon Creed and Shaw Industries. That's making us look weak and the only actions the higher ups will want will either make us weaker or more corrupt."

"So what do we do about it? You think X-men can get their act together so we don't have to cross that bridge?"

General Grimshaw pondered this question intently. A part of him really wanted to give Charles Xavier the benefit of the doubt. Shortcomings aside, he was a man of principle. That sort of thing was hard to come by in his line of work. He needed principled men in this operation. However, the General also understood he was at the mercy of his role. His loyalty was to his country and he didn't have the luxury of ignoring the bigger picture.

After a moment of contemplation, General Grimshaw planned his next move. He still had a job to do and couldn't lose focus. But in order to do his job, he needed a certain margin for error. This would require making a decision that could come back to haunt him.

"I'll let the X-men do what they do best," said Grimshaw assertively, "However, I would sleep a bit easier at night if someone else looked into the matter as well."

"By someone I take it you mean me," surmised Captain Freeman.

"You still have my trust, Captain. That's what I need most right now. Officially, I can't investigate dirty details like Shaw Industries. That's a political hot potato that could paralyze this whole operation. But if there is something going on with those bastards, I want you to find out."

"But that will mean taking me off field operations. I trained to be a soldier, not play Scooby Doo!" the Green Beret complained.

"I know you're not too high on your detective skills. To be honest, I'm not either."

"You don't need to remind me of my grade point average, sir. I get reminded of that _at least_ twice a week," said Captain Freeman dryly.

"But you've got good instincts. Now I need you to use those instincts to find out what you can," retorted Grimshaw, "With Graydon Creed on the loose and Shaw Industries entering the equation, something big might be brewing…something I would rather deal with before it derails everything we've worked for. I don't think I need to tell you what's at stake so can I trust you to do what needs to be done, Captain?"

Captain Freeman didn't like this new mission one bit. The General knew as well as anyone that his IQ tests were nothing to be proud of. Investigating a secretive company for a connection that may or may not be there had less appeal than a week in the Congo. Being the soldier he was though, Captain Freeman only had one response.

"Yes sir," he said, "I'll get right on it."

The Green Beret left the office with his new mission, his confidence just as shaken as the General's. The X-men were reeling. The MSA was in for a rough time. The only ones who could possibly benefit would be Graydon Creed and whoever was foolish enough to break him out.

* * *

**Unknown Location**

"_Don't be a freak, Graydon. Just because you're adopted doesn't make you any less of a man. You're as resilient as anyone else if not more so. Now start acting like it! You're human. I'm human. We're all human. Remember that."_

"Hnn…human," groaned a very tired Graydon Creed through a throbbing headache.

"Reverend, he's waking up."

That voice did not belong to his late father. That came from a dream that Graydon Creed had many times before. It was a dream he had been having more frequently and for good reason. The memories of what he learned from his adopted family were powerful reminders of what it meant to be human.

As he emerged from his unconscious state, he realized that he was not in a prison cell anymore. He was not necessarily free either. When he opened his eyes he found himself in a dark room sitting in a chair without handcuffs or restraints. It was not unlike the many dark rooms he had been interrogated after his arrest for the District X fiasco, but this felt different.

There were many figures around him, but they did not look like cops or soldiers. None of them were armed and none of them looked down at him as a criminal. He recognized two in particular as they approached.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Creed," greeted Reverend William Stryker, "I've long followed your work."

"You…you're William Stryker," said Graydon Creed as his vision cleared, "You're an advisor to President Kelly."

"Not any more, I'm afraid. I suppose you didn't get CNN in your prison cell. I had to resign from the Kelly administration because he _capitulated_ to the wicked. He is now working with the mutants, leaving others like us to deal with them."

This revelation caused Graydon Creed's headache to subside very quickly. Apparently, there had been some changes since his incarceration. If the President of the United States was now supporting mutants, then the situation was even worse than he left it.

"I can tell you're not happy about this. You're in good company," Stryker continued, "That's why we went to great lengths to get you _paroled_. Our efforts came at a cost, but one we don't have the luxury of avoiding. Our cause is on very shaky grounds and we need to ban together if we're to confront the mutant menace."

"Ban together…that sounds desperate," scoffed Creed.

"More so than you can imagine, Brother Creed," said the Reverend, "I could bore you with the details, but I know you're a man of action. So I'll skip ahead to the solution and introduce my associate, Colonel John Wraith."

Reverend Stryker stepped back, allowing Colonel Wraith to approach Creed and present him with an unmarked folder. It was pretty thick, overflowing with documents and pictures that looked disorganized yet detailed. As Graydon opened it and read through some of the documents, Colonel Wraith explained the situation.

"We're facing a _huge_ problem, Mr. Creed. Mutants now have leverage over humanity and humanity still doesn't have a way to strike a balance. For decades, I've been developing a way for people like us to keep dangerous mutants in check. That was the logic behind Weapon X…a project that has had its share of _complications_."

"Is that what this is about? Me helping you complete a project I assume has failed repeatedly?" said Creed skeptically.

"Oh make no mistake, Mr. Creed. This isn't about completing an old project. It's about building a new one that effectively learns from past mistakes. What you have before you is the next logical step from Weapon X. We call it Weapon Plus."

As Colonel Wraith spoke, Graydon sifted through some of the files. Most of the materials looked highly classified, full of technical specs and advanced hardware that couldn't be legal for any non-military entity to possess. On the surface, it looked pretty ambitious. It reminded him somewhat of the Bastion project. It even seemed Colonel Wraith had drawn inspiration from it.

However, what stood out most was the sheer potential of this Weapon Plus project as he called it. These specifications threw around numbers that he never even dreamed of with Bastion. It was bested represented in a digital sketch of a prototype labeled "Fantomex."

"Impressive…and I don't throw that term around often," said Graydon with an ominous grin.

"There's just one problem," Wraith pointed out, "I'm not exactly a _trusted officer_ in the United States military at the moment. But I'm an old soldier with an old philosophy. Even if you lose the battle, you _never _stop fighting the war."

"Good words to live by," replied Creed, "So why do you need me? What would require you to go through the trouble to get me out of prison?"

"There are two reasons actually," the Colonel explained, "First and foremost, you have money. I know your background Creed. Your family made their fortune by making weapons. In this age of mutants and terrorism, I imagine such investments are quite lucrative."

"My parents were a strong believer in protecting humanity by any means necessary. May they rest in peace for their noble efforts," said Creed.

"Which brings me to my second reason," he went on, "Before you went to prison, you were smart enough to move your money off shore and decommission any _incriminating _facilities you still had operating. But I'm guessing you still have a few off-the-books facilities that you kept under wraps."

"That's another lesson my parents taught me. Prepare for the worst, but remain equipped should you get a second chance at victory."

"Well guess what, Mr. Creed? You have that second chance. You can finish what you started with Bastion. My people have the knowledge and the science. Reverend Stryker has the manpower and the guns. All we need is your money and your resources. Together, we can bring Weapon Plus to life."

Graydon Creed almost laughed at this sudden turn of events. Less than 24 hours ago he was rotting in a prison cell, unsure if he would ever have another opportunity to fulfill his destiny. He still believed that he would be the one to take down the mutant menace and protect humanity. That belief was shaken in wake of the District X debacle, but it never waned. Now fate had given him another chance.

"You know, when I was a boy I saw firsthand how vulnerable we humans are. Having been vulnerable myself more times than I care to recall, I've learned that the best qualities of humanity are those that help us persevere through hardship," he mused.

"Spare us the suspense, Mr. Creed. Are you going to help us or not?" asked Wraith.

"Colonel, if you're even remotely familiar with my history, then you wouldn't even bother asking such a question," laughed Creed, "Tell me everything there is to know about Weapon Plus. Then get me a secure phone. I have a few calls to make."

* * *

**Scott and Jean's Bedroom – Later**

It was amazing how some people could live their lives without understanding who they really were. Emma Frost once thought she understood herself. She was a greedy, ambitious, cold-hearted bitch who would gladly shoot someone in the head to get what she wanted. This understanding led her down a dark and dangerous path. She could have easily lost her humanity along that path had fate and a bit of luck not intervened.

When she joined the X-men, she reassessed her understanding of herself. It took a long time for her to rebuild her soul, But when she finally realized what she was becoming, she turned away from that path and never looked back. However, that didn't stop the past from coming back to haunt her. No matter how hard she tried to atone, the heavy burdens on her soul always seemed to find a way to torment her.

'_I deserve this. I deserve all of it. Karma is a real bitch_…_just like me. I lost my girls. I betrayed my friends. Damn it, I hate being so utterly pathetic. How much longer am I going to have to suffer for letting Shaw turn me into his personal queen?'_

The powerful telepath had been consumed with a mix of anger and sorrow since she returned from Manhattan. She sent Sam, Roberto, Noriko, and Julian back to the Academy of Tomorrow while taking Mindee, Phoebe, and Celeste back to the Xavier Institute. Sensing two of their sisters die was a very painful experience. It left them in a traumatized state that required some intense psychic treatment. Professor Xavier was nice enough to provide it, having had plenty of experience in treating damaged minds. She should have been in the infirmary with her girls, but she couldn't bring herself to face them yet.

While her girls underwent treatment, Emma found herself back in the room where this all began. Scott Summers and Jean Grey evoked a wide range of emotions with her. They each had a profound impact on her life. While pacing about in their room, she reflected on that impact. Despite her transgressions, they still saw her as a friend. It was a remarkable feat, proving beyond any doubt that she didn't understand herself half as well as her friends.

Being in their room again brought back numerous memories and powerful emotions. Emma was so lost in her daze, she barely noticed Jean Grey entering the room. Emma didn't even make eye contact, instead setting her sights on Jean's book case near her dresser.

"A Beginners Guide to Tantric Sex," Emma read from one of the books, "That's disappointing. I know I conditioned Scott's love-making skills better than that."

"Emma, do you really think you can deflect the events of the past 12 hours with lurid quips about my private life?" quipped Jean in a serious tone.

"I'm genuinely concerned. It's already quite clear you've enjoyed the fruits of my _conditioning _a great deal. The liberator pad underneath your bed proves that. I hate to think he's with a woman who can't keep up."

"Emma…" said Jean in a stern tone.

"What?! Are you going to mind rape me into talking about it?" spat Emma, finally turning towards Jean with an angrily glare.

"You know that's not my style. If you're not ready to talk…"

"Why bother with blissful ignorance?" she scoffed, "I failed, damn it! Two of my daughters are dead and Shanobi got away. What do you expect me to do? Hire you for therapy?"

Emma's tone was full of anger and self-hated. Were it anyone else, they would be running away as fast as their legs would carry them. But Jean Grey wasn't just anybody. She was inescapably linked to Emma whether she liked it or not. And it wasn't just because she was sleeping with her ex-lover or because of her role in the Phoenix affair. Jean had so many reasons to resent this woman, but she still saw her as a friend.

"You're not going to chase me away, Emma. And not just because this is _my_ room either," said Jean in a more compassionate tone.

"You may want to reconsider. There are several billion ways I could tell you to piss off and I'm perfectly fine going through them one-by-one," said Emma bitterly.

"Go ahead. I'm a very patient person. I have to be when dealing with friends like you."

"You still call me a _friend_? After everything I've done?" she scoffed.

"You're talking to someone who has dated John Proudstar and Wolverine…two men who have a sizable list of transgressions as well," Jean pointed out.

"I can only begin to speculate how a girl with your _daddy issues_ would be attracted to damaged men."

"My personal issues aside, I don't just look at what they do. I look at why they do it. The same goes for my friends. People are put in situations where they're influenced by all these horrible things. But there's a big difference between people like my father who just didn't give enough of a damn and people like you who do everything they can to escape."

"And you think I've escaped? After I let Shanobi torture my daughters?" cried Emma.

"There are some things we can never escape. I know that as well as you do. But we can never stop trying. That's what sets you apart from people like Shaw, Emma. You keep fighting and look incredibly fashionable doing it. That's why I consider you a friend and that's why you're a damn good X-man."

Jean's words struck Emma harder than anything on that list she mentioned. Despite her hostile demeanor, Jean approached her as a friend. At first Emma turned away, but she couldn't bring herself to despise this woman. She saw the good in people that was not readily apparent. Under Jean Grey's compassionate gaze, the good that Sebastian Shaw failed to destroy was allowed to grow.

Then Emma's attention shifted to Jean's dresser where there was a sizable collection of pictures, many of them containing her and Scott in various romantic moments. There were even a few old ones of her and Scott. Seeing these shadows of her past caused her demeanor to shift once more.

"You want to hear something really pathetic?" said Emma in a flat tone.

"Is this number one on that list you mentioned?" asked Jean.

"I'd rather save that for when I'm _not_ getting over the deaths of my daughters," she said dryly, "This is about me and the man you're lucky enough to share that bed with."

"Scott? What does he have to do with it?"

"More than you think or will ever be comfortable with," sighed Emma.

Still not looking Jean in the eye, Emma picked up one of the photos on the dresser. It was one of Scott and Jean in a simple embrace with the lake in the background. They looked so happy and so deeply in love. She had once been in Jean's position. She still remembered that wonderful feeling and how she took it for granted.

"When Scott and I first got together, I was in no condition to love someone," she said distantly, "I was still a product of the Inner Circle's conditioning. My only concern at the time was getting away from that path. Scott was a means of doing so. He was a decent and honorable man…the complete opposite of all the men from my previous life."

"Yeah, he's a quality man cut from quality material. That's for sure," said Jean with a half-grin, "I remember how smitten he was with you."

"You don't need to remind me. I could readily sense how much he loved me. He went out of his way to prove that love in so many waysMe being the selfish bitch that I was, I entertained his emotions. I let him into my heart, not expecting more than a breath of fresh air."

"As if you stopped there," said Jean dryly.

"Don't make me go over every little detail," said Emma, rolling her eyes, "It's true. A lot of it was selfish on my part. As I'm sure you recalled, that included the more _physical _components of our relationship. I spent a lot of time and energy conditioning him to be the lover I needed him to be. At times I may have been a little _commanding_."

"Only a little?" questioned Jean.

"You get to enjoy the fruits of my labor so I wouldn't be so crass, Jean," retorted Emma, "But what I wanted out of the relationship didn't match what I got. I ended up getting something I never expected…something that still bugs the hell out of me to this day."

Emma put the picture down and turned to face Jean. The bitter look in her eyes faded and revealed a rare humility. Her relationship with Scott had a profound impact on her. Knowing that impact all too well, Jean showed no animosity. She could sense just how much this meant to Emma.

"This is the pathetic part," Emma went on, "As I was using Scott to cope with my problems, I started falling in love with him. It sounds like an utter violation of logic, decency, and common sense. Instead of falling for someone and sleeping with them, I slept with Scott and ended up falling for him. I wasn't trying to. Hell, I didn't even _want _to. But it just…happened."

"I wouldn't say that's _pathetic_, Emma. This is Scott Summers we're talking about. He's a very easy man to fall in love with. That's not just me talking. Ask Rogue. She dated him too and she would agree whole-heartedly."

"I'm not arguing that. Heavens knows we're both versed in the art of loving Scott Summers," said Emma with a touch of lingering, "It only goes horribly wrong when you scrutinize how it panned out. Scott loved me and I was starting to love him. But before we ever caught up with one another, our emotions started going in different direction. I don't think I need to remind you of what happened during the infamous Savage Land mission."

Jean shifted awkwardly. She should have known this would come up. That Savage Land mission was a major turning point for them. It came at a time when they were growing from teenagers to adults. Their friendship had evolved as they had grown. But it was that fateful mission where she and Scott connected on a much deeper level. It was also the beginning of the powerful love that they now shared.

That love marked a turning point for Emma Frost as well. In a ways it was fitting. She had been so arrogant in dealing with her relationship with Scott. It was appropriate that this attitude would catch up to her.

"I remember when you came back from that mission. You looked like shit and smelling twice as worse," she said with restrained emotions, "You were laughing, smiling, and holding hands in a way that made me very uncomfortable. I don't think either of you realized it, but I sure did."

"You wouldn't have been the first one. John said the same thing…albeit with an annoying lack of subtlety," said Jean awkwardly, "But it's not like those emotions developed overnight."

"It would have been a hell of a lot easier they did," argued Emma, "From that day forward, both our relationships declined. You were the lucky one. You and John were on friendlier terms. I was less _understanding_ to say the least."

"You make it sound like you two got _hostile_. It wasn't that bad…was it?"

"Don't be foolish. You know Scott's too much a gentleman to completely disrespect a woman. If there was any hostility, it came from me. I was _furious_. At long last I was in love with someone for all the right reasons. Then Scott had to grow up and mature on me, falling in love with someone else along the way."

"That wasn't his fault, Emma," said Jean in an empathic tone, "Even though we had our share of clashes during that time, I really am sorry that it…"

"Don't even _try_ to apologize, Jean. Nobody should ever be sorry for falling in love with Scott Summers," said Emma distantly, "To his credit, he did everything you could ask of a man to make a failing relationship work. Were I not a telepath, I might have been content with that. I guess I'll never know. Even without Shaw's influence, I don't see how we could have lasted. It's probably for the best anyhow. At least he's with someone who loves him as much as he deserves."

Emma had to turn away again, this time to hide the tears that had formed in her eyes. She was still too arrogant to show such weakness, especially to a woman who had something she foolishly took for granted. Jean offered another friendly gesture. It was completely undeserved, but that didn't stop Emma from taking comfort in it.

"I won't hide what I'm sure you've already sensed, Jean. A part of me still loves Scott Summers," said Emma.

"Yeah…I figured," said Jean, trying to hide the awkwardness in her tone.

"I've hurt so many people with my _many _sins. But the one that still hurts the most is what I did to Scott. He's the man who gave me faith in humanity again. He loved me despite knowing where I came from and what I had done. I didn't think it was possible for any man to love me for more than just a memorable one night stand, but…"

"I get it, Emma. Scott's a great guy. No need to remind me," said Jean in an awkward tone, "But you should know I'm just as protective of my boyfriend as the next girl with a cosmic force at her disposal."

"Relax Jean. I'm not looking to steal him back or anything. I know he doesn't love me anymore. I don't deserve him anyhow…although I am open to _benefits_ of a sort."

"Don't push it," Jean warned her.

"Sorry…old lurid habits die hard, I suppose," said Emma, "The fact remains I'm still trying to learn from all the lessons Scott taught me. He and Charles Xavier showed me that I've still got a heart under this bitchy yet fabulous shell. I'm just unfashionably late in remembering that and I keep paying the price…this time with my girls."

It was hard enough recalling all those emotions she still felt with Scott, but those were in the past. What happened with her Cuckoos was still fresh in her mind. It brought her full circle in a sense. Jean had been part of what helped her rebuild her life when she first joined the X-men. Now she was part of the next stage where she tried to give that life greater meaning.

"But you're still putting that heart to good use. That's saying something right there," Jean pointed out.

"You're not going to make the better-late-than-never argument, are you?" groaned Emma, "That pitiful excuse died with Sophie and Esme."

"You've never needed excuses, Emma. I'm not going to make them for you. But as your friend, I just want to say…don't let yourself go completely numb. Everything you've gone through, as horrible as it may have been, has made you stronger."

"Among other things," she muttered.

"Call it what you want, but I believe the good more than outweighs the bad. The proof is just you being here talking to me, taking responsibility and not blaming everyone else like the Magnetos and Shaws of the world," argued Jean, "You've already taken the first steps with the Academy of Tomorrow. I even hear you've allowed that Doug Ramsy kid to join since Shanobi left him out to dry."

"At least someone should come out of this mess intact," Emma sighed, "It's pennies compared to the massive debt on my soul I've yet to pay."

"It has to start somewhere, Emma. You can't expect everything to fall into place all at once. Not with relationships. Not with the past either. Sins and burdens aside, the worst thing anyone can do is stop trying."

"You're not going to give me a never-give-up speech, are you?" said Emma dryly.

"I'll take that sarcasm as another one of your _charming _way of acknowledging my point," said Jean with a half-grin, "You may have lost Esme and Sophie, but you still have three more who need your guidance and your love. Daughters or clones, you have an opportunity to make it count with them. You also have a bunch of confused, anxious, and overly hormonal teenage mutants who need some of that love as well."

"You make it sound as though a cold-hearted, ex-stripper is in the best position to help them."

"If it were up to me, I'd still say you were the best cold-hearted, ex-stripper a for the job."

Emma turned to face Jean again. It still felt strange, confiding in this woman. She was dating her former lover and she was the victim of some of Emma's most egregious misdeeds, namely with the Inner Circle. That didn't stop her from being the loving, compassionate person she had always been.

It was eerily fitting. Even with the failures of the mission, she was still moving forward with this new phase of her life. She had a long way to go. But with her students and her Cuckoos, she was on the right track. Jean Grey clearly had faith in her. And if Jean Grey of all people had faith in her, then she had no excuse.

While the two girls exchanged smiles, Scott entered through the bedroom door. He was a bit surprised to see Emma and Jean in the same room smiling together. From his experience that could be either a really good or a really bad sign.

"Hey uh…am I interrupting something?" asked Scott.

"Were you expecting us to be making out on the bed in our underwear?" said Emma, now back to her wry demeanor.

"Don't give him any ideas, Emma," said Jean with a playful grin.

"As if that thought hadn't already crossed his mind several times since I showed up," she scoffed.

Scott didn't dare reply. He had his ex and his girlfriend in the same room. He would be a fool to make too much of it after a day like this.

"No comment," was all he said with a bemused grin, "Just thought you should know the Cuckoos are awake now. The Professor says they're doing better and should be ready to go home in the morning."

"Good to know Charles still has that magic touch," said Emma, "I assume they're clamoring for their mother."

"Those maternal instincts will have to do because they'll never admit it. They're too stubborn and proud," said X-leader.

"Can't imagine where they got _that_ trait from," commented Jean.

"I could make take a few wild guesses," he shrugged while smiling towards Emma, "If you want, we could help out. I understand if you still need some time."

"That's okay, darling. I've bugged you and your girlfriend enough," said Emma, "If memory serves me right, I interrupted a rather _passionate _moment when I arrived. It wouldn't be fair if I didn't give you a chance to make it up. Although if you want me to stick around to offer pointers…"

"Enough Emma," said Jean, rolling her eyes, "Go to your girls. We can manage."

"But this time, don't shut us out after you leave," added Scott, "You can be as abrasive as you want. You'll still have people here who care about you."

Emma managed another smile as she made her exit, stopping along the way to give Scott a hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek. Even if she didn't have his love anymore, it was nice to know that she still had a place in his heart.

She owed him and the X-men a lot. They put her back in a position to do the right thing. This time she wasn't going to let anything or anyone derail her efforts. She had her students, her Cuckoos, and the X-men. Even if she didn't deserve it, Emma Frost was going to keep doing what she did best and make the most of it. Upon leaving the room, she had one last telepathic message for Jean.

'_Take good care of him, Jean…both in and out of the bedroom.'_

'_No worries there, Emma. I've got that covered!'_

* * *

**Up next: Shifting Tides**


	6. Issue 103: Shifting Tides

**Issue #103  
Shifting Tides**

* * *

_Humanity is on the cusp of a new stage in evolution. Professor Charles Xavier and the X-men fight for peace in a world that hates and fears that evolution. Human/mutant relations have been tenuous, but they have been kept in check by a treaty with the mutant nation of Genosha that exchanges advanced alien technology for peace. However, the strength this peace is still being tested._

_The latest test came from Shanobi Shaw. Exploiting the activities of Colonel Wraith and William Stryker, he tried to hack the network on Genosha and steal the alien technology for his father's company, Shaw Industries. His plan was thwarted by the X-men and their former member, Emma Frost. But victory came at a price. Emma lost two of her clone daughters, Esme and Sophie. Wraith and Stryker also succeeded in extracting Graydon Creed from prison. As the impact of this affair unfolds, a growing strain between the X-men and the Mutant Security Agency has formed._

_Never-the-less, the X-men fight on. In addition to the issues surrounding the Genosha treaty, a number of personal dramas have been escalating in recent times. For some, it is only a matter of time before they manifest in a profound and inescapable way._

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Classroom**

Philosophy was one of those rare human endeavors that attempted to encompass everything about everything within a single framework. It didn't just sound like an impossible task. It _was_ an impossible task. Some of the smartest men throughout history dedicated their lives to this task. It was a field that Remy Lebeau was woefully under-qualified for at times. Ye he remained engrossed in it past the point of frustration.

'_Dang! Didn't Remy already read this chapter? Is it possible Remy is so sleep deprived that he read it and completely forgot about it? Maybe Remy should have Jean and Betsy probe his mind to see how crazy I am.'_

Remy was running on empty. He hadn't slept in nearly two days. Nobody really noticed either because everyone in the X-men was operating on extremely limited sleep at this point. Since the missions at Colorado Springs and Shaw Industries, the team had a lot on their plate. Somewhere along the way they still had class. It was supposed to be their least stressful duty, but for Remy it took on the rigors of several Juggernaut battles.

Remy had been staring at his books for nearly four hours. He practically tuned out Mr. McCoy's lecture a few hours ago and had since tuned everybody else during the study period that followed. Scott, Jean, and Betsy were in the middle of a few make-up assignments. Kitty, Bobby, and Piotr took a test earlier with Miss Munroe and had since left. Remy was supposed to go with them, but he remained stuck on one of his philosophy assignments that involved theories about human emotion. Unfortunately, this was one field Remy had been struggling with a lot lately.

'_Love is an exploding cigar we willingly smoke. Some femme named Lynda Barry said that. Remy guesses she had some problems in her love life as well. Wish I could come up with an insight like that. It be a heck of a lot easier than stayin' up all night tryin' to make sense of this shit.'_

With a tired yawn, Remy sat hunched over his desk. He was the last person who should have been studying emotions. Emotions like love led to Belladonna's death. Emotions like hate drove him away from his family. Then there were the emotions surrounding Rogue and Betsy that didn't fit into any category. This should have been an opportunity. He and Betsy had been having problems lately. Their relationship had stalled and neither one of them seemed to be trying very hard to get it going again. It didn't help that he still talked to Rogue constantly. He wanted to make things right. But if this was an opportunity to do so, then he wasn't making good use of it.

"Remy…hey Remy!" shouted Jean from a nearby desk.

"Huh?" said the Cajun, jolted from his daze.

"Are you going to answer it or what?"

"Uh…answer what, cherè? We takin' another pop quiz or something?" asked Remy incredulously.

Jean responded by telekinetically lifting up one of his books and batting him on the head with it in a not so subtle manner.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" he said, now fully alert.

"To wake you up," replied Jean, "Your phone has been ringing for the past five minutes on your desk. If you're not going to answer it, could you at least set it to vibrate? I need to make up a test and that ZZ Top ring tone is undermining my grade-point average."

While Remy was rubbing his head, he looked down at his cell phone to see that Jean was right. He had been in such a daze he didn't notice that his phone had been ringing. On the screen it said he had three missed calls, all from the same number. Remy immediately recognized the number and when it started ringing again, he answered it.

"Uh…Bonjoure?" he said under his breath.

"_Dang it, Remy! What the hell is goin' on over there? Ah've been tryin' to call you all morning."_

"Rogue? You ain't be callin' Remy in the middle of the day just to yell at him, non?"

"_If that's what Ah wanted, don't you think Ah would have called sooner?"_

She sounded pretty upset. Something clearly was very wrong so rather than try to charm her out of her mood he gave her a moment to collect herself.

"Talk to me, Rogue. What's goin' on?"

There was a brief silence over the line before Rogue replied, but he could still hear the strain in her breathing.

"_Ah…Ah need to see you, Remy. Ah don't mean soon either. Ah mean right now."_

"Is this something we can't talk about over the phone?" said Remy, trying to be tactful so as not to invoke the curiosity from the others.

"_No…Ah need to tell you in person. How soon can you get to downtown Westchester? Ah ain't far from S&L Barbecue."_

Remy looked at his stack of books and then down at his watch. His lack of sleep and constant frustrations with his assignment quickly faded. Rogue sounded desperate and her safety took priority over everything else.

"Hang on, Rogue. Remy will be there in fifteen minutes tops."

"_Thanks sugah. Just hurry the hell up!"_

Remy turned off his phone and rushed out of the room without telling Mr. McCoy, who looked up from the test he was proctoring with Scott just in time to see the Cajun slip out. Betsy and Jean noticed as well. Jean had been a bit too focused on her quiz to sense what was going on, but Betsy's curiosity was definitely heightened.

"Bloody hell! That call had to be from _Rogue_," Betsy cursed, "Only she can get him running out the door like _that_."

"You want to mellow out, Betsy? I think it's a bad sign when a psychic starts sounding paranoid," said Jean under her breath.

"That's easy to say when your significant other is spends more time on the X-jet than his cell phone," she scoffed, "I'm sick of being sidelined every time Rogue goes whining to my boyfriend. I don't care how much trouble she's in. We're either going to confront this or we'll take turns busting Remy's balls!"

Following her lover's lead, Betsy abandoned her assignment and ran off. Jean didn't bother going after her. Betsy was frustrated. This had clearly been brewing for a while now. Months of Remy dividing his time between Betsy and Rogue was finally catching up with them. It was one of those personal issues that Jean knew not to get involved with.

Betsy's departure drew the full attention of Scott and Mr. McCoy from across the room. They were looking towards Jean for answers, but she was in no position to offer any.

"Don't ask," she said with a groan, "I'm sure we'll all find out by the end of the day."

* * *

**Downtown Westchester – Bayview Mall**

"Hurry up, Peter! You're one of the few men who can never complain about his muscles getting tired," Kitty called out.

"Hold on, Katya. I am still trying to work this new iPhone you convinced me to buy," said Piotr, who stood hunched over a display case in an electronics store.

"You've been trying for the last twenty minutes. Give it a rest already! Don't waste what precious time we have between classes on gimmicky gadgets."

Piotr Rasputin scrutinized this latest piece of American technology for a moment longer. He knew he was in for a challenge by agreeing to go shopping with an American girl at Bayview Mall. He thought he saw plenty of technology when he worked for the Russian Mafia, but most of it involved weapons or military grade electronics. Omega Red only sparingly dealt in consumer goods. It was a good thing too because Piotr doubted that even he could make sense of some of these so-called smart phones.

Piotr decided to learn the intricacies of American gadget later and left the store to catch up with Kitty Pryde. They didn't have much time left before their next round of classes started. He probably should have stayed behind to catch up. But when Kitty invited him to the mall he instinctively jumped at the chance. She had become his insight into his new American life and was quickly becoming something more.

"Oh don't look too frustrated, Farm Boy," teased Kitty, "Even I can't figure out some of these new phones, especially the ones with Genosha tech."

"Yet you're able to text and bring up a map of this mall with only one hand," Piotr pointed out, "I'd say you're ahead of the curve."

"You'll catch up," she assured him, "Stick with me and you'll be as cool as you are strong! And that may mean updating that wardrobe of yours."

"Why? What is wrong with my clothes?" he asked, looking down at his simple white shirt and blue jeans.

"Nothing is _wrong_ with it. There are just a few limitations to wearing the same stuff you wear to mow the lawn."

"Limitations?" questioned Piotr.

"I could go on a long and tedious lecture on men's fashion. _Or_ you could just trust me when I say a little style goes a long way for a man of your _stature_."

Kitty grabbed the oversized Russian by the arm and led him along. It was almost comical, a powerful Russian allowing himself to be led by this petite teenage girl. Yet he couldn't stop smiling. There was something about Kitty Pryde's spirit that excited him. These past few months had given him a lot of reasons to enjoy her company and she kept giving him more.

The mall was crowded for the middle of the day. This usually didn't make for a very productive trip, but having Piotr by her side made it plenty enjoyable. It wasn't the first time she took Piotr out to Westchester either. She discovered not long after he joined the team that he had some catching up to do in terms of living a non-mafia life. He was used to living on a small farms or looking over his shoulder while on assignment for the Omega family and Kitty was intent on changing that. For what he went through, Piotr deserved better and she was going to be the one to help him.

Latched onto his arm, Kitty and Piotr navigated the swarmed crowds. They passed several shops and a couple of sales booth located along the way. The nearest clothing store was just up ahead and it would have to be the last stop they made before heading back to the mansion. They were almost there when a ditzy-looking sales girl with dyed hair and excessive facial piercings jumped out in front of them.

"Hi there! Aren't you a cute couple? Care to try a special new fragrance exclusive we just got in this morning?" said the girl.

"Oh uh we're not a couple. We…" but Piotr didn't get too far.

"Oh so you're the strong shy type? That's great! I have just the fragrance for you," said the girl, sounding like she had a few too many cups of coffee.

Before Piotr had a chance to refuse, the salesgirl grabbed a small black container that was no bigger than a can of soda and sprayed it right in his face. Not only did it not smell all that pleasant, but Piotr also felt a sharp sting on his neck.

"Ack! Chto za chert?" he cursed in Russian as he grabbed his neck.

"Hey! What gives?" demanded Kitty, "Is there _acid_ in that thing or something?"

"Oh uh…hold on. This may be the wrong scent," said the ditzy girl sheepishly, "Don't worry! I've got the right one for you, missy."

Working faster than Kitty could react, she grabbed another small container that looked almost identical to the last one. The girl then held it up to Kitty's neck and sprayed it. Again, a bizarre scent and a painful sting followed.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, grasping her neck just like Piotr had done, "That's it! You need to serious work on your sales pitch, lady."

"Um…maybe this isn't the right scent either?"

"Maybe you're in the wrong profession, Little Miss Calvin Klein! Just be lucky you're not selling pepper spray," she said, shoving the girl away before she could grab another scent.

"Does that mean you don't want a free sample?" she asked sheepishly.

"Please…no samples. I do not think these _fragrances_ you speak of are for us," said Piotr, still rubbing his neck.

"I don't think they're for _anybody_," added Kitty, "Come on, Peter. Some new clothes should help get rid of that nasty scent."

Kitty and Piotr briskly slipped away, leaving the ditzy girl standing awkwardly with the two unmarked fragrances in her hands. Despite their negative reaction, she continued to smile. Even if they didn't buy any, she still got what she wanted out of her little pitch.

'_I had to denigrate myself in a way I'd rather wipe from my memory, but it worked. Heaven help me if my kids ever find out I stooped this low.'_

The ditzy girl slipped away from the perfume booth and made her way through the bustling crowds until she was standing in a corridor that led to a back exit. Once she was out of public view, her eyes shifted yellow and she pocketed the two fragrance bottles. A quick glance at the bottom and it showed that these were anything by typical cosmetic containers.

From the bottom, there was a transparent piece of glass that allowed her to see into the bottle. Inside there were two small vials, each with a small bit of blood. That blood came courtesy of her two unwitting non-customers. From the looks of it, they didn't suspect a thing. With the vials in hand, the mysterious girl took out her cell phone and made a fateful call.

"It's me," she said, her voice no longer resembling that of a ditzy teenage girl.

"_Ah, right on time, Mystique. I take it your little excursion was successful?"_

"It was a lot less eventful than I'm used to, but yes. It was a success. Those micro-needles you gave me worked like charm. Pryde and Rasputin didn't suspect a thing."

"_Of course they won't. If they haven't come running after you by now, then chances are they won't bother."_

"Like they'd catch me," she scoffed.

"_Glad to hear you're so confident because your next little task may require a more direct approach."_

"How direct? Will it require that I take the form of another gaudy skank?"

"_Not necessarily. Luckily, you're lucky you're next target will likely come to you because I don't think you're ready to confront them."_

"Are you questioning my resilience, Sinister?"

"_Of course not. I just don't trust you enough to handle certain components of this mission. You can still earn that trust. Get to the bus station across town and check in with my Vertigo once she's done. She should have her sample ready by then."_

"Fine!" she said bitterly, "But be sure she got my last message. If she goes too far in the _slightest_, she'll be sicker than her powers could ever make her!"

"_I'll be sure to pass along your sentiment. Now be a good ruthless deceiver and proceed with your mission. You still want the answers I have. Don't make me reconsider my offer by slowing down my plans."_

There was a harsh click as Sinister hung up, leaving Mystique in a bitter yet familiar position. For months she had been doing this, carrying out Sinister's _errands_ as he called them. They often involved stealing advanced genetics equipment and getting blood samples from mutants. He wouldn't tell her what they were for. He only told her assistance would give her the answers she craved. Taking on another human shape, she exited the mall in search of her next task.

* * *

**Outside S&L Barbecue Restaurant**

Remy arrived at his destination with great urgency, breaking a number of traffic laws in the process. But there was good reason for such urgency. It was rare for Rogue to get so worked up. She was the toughest woman he knew both literally and figuratively. Something had to be very wrong for her to call him in the middle of the day like this. He negated class and an already upset girlfriend to come after her. He would deal with the unpleasant fallout later.

He pulled up alongside the curb near the S&L Barbecue restaurant and scanned the area for Rogue. The restaurant looked as busy as any restaurant would during this time of day. There didn't appear to be anyone out of the ordinary at first. Then he felt a distinct gust of wind from above. The Cajun looked up to see Rogue flying down and landing just off to the side of the restaurant. As soon as she landed, Remy got off his motorcycle and ran towards her.

"Cherè! There you are," he called out, "Remy thought you said you was here already."

Rogue landed and looked surprised by the Cajun's outburst.

"Whoa there, Remy! Slow down," she said, "You look like an army of Sentinels chased you here."

"Don't tell Remy you're gonna belittle him for bein' worried! You called Remy out of the blue sayin' you was in trouble. How the hell you expect Remy to respond?"

"Wait…Ah called you? When did that happen?"

"Now ain't the time for bustin' Remy's balls, Rogue. I ain't in the mood for games!"

"Do Ah look like Ah'm playing a game?" said Rogue seriously, "Ah was just going about mah business, helping Kurt catch up on his online classes. Then_ you_ called and said you needed _mah _help!"

Now Remy was even more confused and even more worried. This didn't make any sense. He knew Rogue well enough to sense when she was being coy and when she was being serious. She was every bit as bewildered as he was. Clearly, there were other forces at work here.

"Don't give meh that look, Remy. Just so you know, Ah'd be perfectly fine if this was another one of your stupid jokes," said Rogue, who was starting to worry as well.

"It be no joke, cherè. Something be _very_ wrong here," said the Cajun as he started scanning the area vigilantly.

"Any chances this is Bobby, Kitty, or the others messin' with us?"

"Non, they be a lot way more imaginative than this," he reasoned, "Someone be playing us. Someone wanted to get us out here in one place."

"Why in the hell would anyone wanna do that?" asked Rogue, now looking around her suspiciously as well.

She and Remy got their answer a lot sooner than they expected. While they were looking around for possible threats, they were struck by an ominous yet familiar pulsating wave. It was hard to tell where it came from. But when it hit them, their world started spinning.

"Augh!" groaned Rogue, "Ah ain't eaten yet, but Ah…Ah'm gonna loose it anyways."

"Ungh…Remy too," grunted the Cajun as he fell to his knees, "This feel…familiar. It feel like…"

Then a familiar voice came from one of the outdoor tables from the restaurant.

"Vertigo?" she said, "Took you long enough."

The question over who tricked them was officially answered and it was anything but comforting. Rogue and Remy were now writhing on the ground, clutching their heads and stomachs through mind-numbing agony. From the table, a woman dressed in normal street clothes and a baseball cap confronted the two X-men. Through the pain they recognized her as Vertigo, one of Sinister's Marauders. The source of the wave was coming from her and she wasn't holding back.

"I have to say, I'm disappointed. You X-men are supposed to be cunning," she taunted as she approached them, "Yet all it took to outsmart you was a few tactful phone calls."

"Ungh…that what this be about?" grunted Remy, "Sinister be lookin' to abduct us again?"

"You can tell him…to kiss mah-augh!"

Rogue's insult was cut off by another more neauseating wave by Vertigo. She was not just looking to slow down the two X-men. She was looking to fully paralyze them. They had no chance at fighting back. After only a few seconds of bombardment, they were nearly unconscious.

"Don't presume _anything_. Sinister is smarter than that," grinned Vertigo, "He has no plans for a reunion…not _yet_ anyways. But you still have something he wants and Sinister always gets what he wants."

"Hnn…" groaned Remy, trying to respond.

"Easy there, pretty boy," she said, placing her foot on his neck to shut him up, "Now hold still. This will only take a minute. Just be lucky you're already in too much pain to feel what I'm about to do."

* * *

**Meanwhile**

Remy Lebeau was a dedicated lover when he needed to be an insufferable pain whenever possible. As soon as he went out searching for Rogue, he was followed closely by a very curious and very annoyed Betsy Braddock. She had dealt with Remy's infatuation with Rogue since the beginning of their relationship. She understood they shared a close bond and that Remy often went out of his way to see her. However, there were times it bugged her. She expected it to be a complication at some point, but she never expected it to manifest like this.

She arrived at S&L Barbecue just in time to see Rogue and Remy in a heated conversation. She rode on Logan's spare motorcycle. Since he was on duty in Genosha, she figured he wouldn't mind. Even with her reckless driving, she struggled to keep up with Remy. She was in the right mind to tear into him for being such a lousy boyfriend. Unfortunately, Vertigo beat her to it.

"Bloody hell! There goes my justification for calling Remy a total sod," groaned Betsy, "He owes me _big time_ for this."

Vertigo didn't notice Betsy approaching. Once her targets were completely docile, she took out a small handheld device that looked like a glue gun that was tipped with a special needle leading into a glass vial. Using this device, she pressed it against Remy's neck and pushed a button to extract the sample. After securing the sample she moved onto Rogue, which would be more difficult because of her invulnerable form.

"This adamantium needle better do the trick," said Vertigo as she changed up the vial.

Acting fast, she pressed the device against Rogue's neck and began extracting the sample. That's when she heard an angry female voice interrupt her efforts.

"Stop whatever the hell you're doing and back the fuck off!" she shouted.

"Oh hell, you can't be…"

"Serious?" shot Betsy, "How's _this_ for serious?"

The young woman attacked Vertigo, pulling off an acrobatic jump kick that knocked Vertigo right off Rogue. She tried redirecting her vertigo wave, but she wasn't fast enough. She was hit hard again with another forceful kick that sent her flying back towards the restaurant tables. This ended up causing some commotion from the bewildered customers inside.

"Who the hell is that?" exclaimed one of the waitresses.

"Looks like one of those mutants," said an older woman sitting at a table.

"Somebody call the MSA!" said the restaurant manager.

This was the problem with luring her targets out in broad daylight. It was bound to attract attention, especially if it got bad. This could only make her mission more difficult.

"Ungh! This is the _last_ thing I need," grunted Vertigo.

"Too bad! You're getting it anyways," said Betsy, forming two psionic blades as she stood over the dazed Marauder.

"You know I would _love _to stick around and make you writhe in pain for this whole city to see. But I'm in a hurry so do us both a favor and get the fuck out of my way!"

Vertigo grabbed a nearby chair from a table and threw it right at Betsy. She sliced it into pieces with her blades. In doing so she gave Vertigo enough of a window to return to her feet and run past her. Sprinting at full speed, she reached down and grabbed the device that was still sticking out of Rogue's neck. It was on just long enough to get a sample, which was all she needed to complete her mission. She didn't need to waste time fighting the X-men.

"Don't you dare run!" said Betsy with her blades still glowing, "I came here to take my frustration out on somebody. Since you paralyzed my boyfriend, you'll have to do."

"That sounds like _so much_ fun," said Vertigo dryly, "I'll put that on my _to don't_ list and get back to you."

"So you're going to make me chase you?"

"If you want to waste your time, then by all means!"

Vertigo kept running full speed, using her vertigo wave to disable some pedestrians along the way. Betsy looked at her ailing boyfriend and then back towards Vertigo. In a fit of burning frustration, she chose to go after Vertigo.

While Betsy ran after her, Remy and Rogue emerged from their dazed state. Vertigo's attack was a lot more focused than their previous encounters. But Vertigo didn't stick around to finish the job, which meant they were still conscious and could go after her if they could fight through the agony.

"Ungh…Betsy," moaned Remy as he pulled himself up.

"Not so dang loud, Cajun! Mah head ain't stopped poundin' yet," grunted Rogue.

"Remy takes it from the attitude that you be okay, chere," said the Cajun as he helped her up, "Now come on! We got to go after Vertigo."

"You want mah help in goin' after your girlfriend?" she scoffed.

"Ain't you the least bit curious about what the hell just happened? A trick like this ain't done for the hell of it. If you don't want answers, fine. But Remy's goin' after them!"

Remy was annoying as hell with his logic sometimes. If Vertigo was pulling tricks like this for Sinister, then he was definitely up to something and that was never a good thing. Having already had her powers messed up by that madman, she wasn't going to let him get away with whatever he had planned even if it involved helping Remy's girlfriend.

"Fahne," she said begrudgingly, "Ain't like you're equipped to handle two pissed off women."

"You be too sweet, cherè," said Remy, who was already following Betsy and Vertigo's trail, "Now hurry up and get airborne! We best be catchin' those two before they do serious damage."

"Give mah head a sec to settle," said Rogue, still rubbing her head, "Dang, how many other ways can this afternoon go to hell?"

"If Sinister be involved…plenty."

* * *

**Westchester Bus Station**

Jubilation Lee hadn't left District X much since she joined forces with Bishop, Madrox, and Tessa. Aside from New York City, she had little reason to travel. It wasn't just because she had plenty to keep her busy. The world was still pretty hostile towards mutants. Even with the Genosha treaty providing an economic incentive to not hate mutants, there was still plenty of anti-mutant sentiment.

This didn't prevent Bobby Drake from convincing her to ride out to Westchester and visit him. He had made the arduous trip to District X numerous times. It was only fair that she make the effort to visit him as well. Since he and the X-men had been so busy lately, they hadn't really had much time to hang out. That caused a bit of strain that neither of them were in the mood to confront. Perhaps this little visit would help them both.

'_I live on a block where two known teleporters live in the same building. Yet here I am riding the bus. Something is seriously wrong with this picture. It hardly seems fair. Then again, I should be used to missing out on everything fair.'_

Jubilee let out a restless sigh upon stepping off the greyhound bus. The station in the north part of Westchester was fairly busy. It was the middle of the day and there were plenty of people going about their business. Jubilee made sure she dressed a bit more tactfully than she did in District X, sporting her favorite sunglasses along with a pair of dark jeans and a yellow jacket. Once off the platform, she began scanning the area for Bobby. He promised to meet her so they could make the most of their limited free time.

"Hey Jubilee! Over here!" came a voice through the crowd.

"Ah, there's my supremely cool boy toy!" said Jubilee, picking out Bobby from the crowds.

"Ready and waiting for nearly fifteen _arduous _minutes."

Jubilee smiled and made her way through the crowds to meet up with Bobby. As soon as she reached him, they shared a quick embrace and an affectionate kiss. It was a nice feeling which _almost_ making up for the lousy bus ride.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," said Jubilee, "I couldn't convince this girl back in District X to teleport me the whole way. Something about only going to places she knows."

"Well we all can't be as bold as you, Jubilee. So try not to hold it against her," teased Bobby.

"Nah, you know I'm not the kind to hold a grudge. I still managed to guilt her into loaning me a few bucks for the bus trip."

"That's my girl! Always finding a way to win."

Bobby grinned proudly and slipped his arm around her waist, leading her towards the rear exit to the station. There were a lot of people still coming in and it was a lot less crowded down this area. Plus, it was out of sight enough for Bobby to get them moving on one of his ice slides.

As soon as they were out of sight by a comfortable enough distance, Jubilee got a little friendlier with her lover. She leaned into his embrace and slipped a hand into his back pocket. She was officially ready to forget about the bus ride and focus on making this visit as productive as possible.

"So what are your plans for my first visit to Westchester? This place isn't nearly as big as New York City so forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical," said Jubilee.

"Go right ahead. Skepticism is a good thing. It'll leave you all the more surprised once you see what I have in store," boasted Bobby.

"Will it involve more than a trip to the mall or a sampling of all those ice cream joints you told me about?"

"Are you questioning my choices in ice cream?" he said with fake offense.

"No, but let's just say I have high expectations," said Jubilee playfully, "The lousy bus ride did give me some time to work up a little anticipation. I think it'll be good for us. I know we haven't had a lot of time for each other lately and I know you've had your _concerns_ about what we've got going on. Well today we're going to clear the air."

"Really? You're serious?" said Bobby with more intrigue.

"You bet, Iceman! You've been patient with me all this time. It's only fair I return the favor."

Bobby's expression shifted as Jubilee gave him an affectionate smile. This caused him to stop walking for a moment. They were almost at the exit, standing right alongside a couple of buses that weren't in use. His grip around her waist tightened somewhat and he looked a little distant. Jubilee was a bit taken aback. She expected a reaction from him, but not like this.

"Um…everything okay, Bobby? Did I just make a total fool of myself?" asked Jubilee warily.

"No…not at all," he assured her.

"So why are you looking at me like I just threw up on your shirt?"

Bobby paused and looked away for a moment. Jubilee was getting really worried now. Something seemed really wrong. It was hard to tell what it was. Bobby usually wasn't this hard to read.

"It's not you, Jubilee. It's just…you're making this really hard for me," he said in a strangely distant tone.

"Why? What's so hard about it?" she asked in a confused tone.

"Remember how I said I wanted to surprise you? Well now I'm not sure you'll be so surprised anymore."

What happened next caught Jubilee completely by surprise. Bobby's embrace went from affectionate to hostile. With a sinister gleam in his eye, he roughly shoved her back against a nearby truck. He shoved her so hard that when she hit, it left a sizable dent. Jubilee was left dazed, confused, and in quite a bit of pain.

"Augh!" she cried out, "B-B-Bobby?!"

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," he said in a voice that sounded completely unlike the Bobby she knew.

Jubilee's defensive instincts kicked in. Bobby, or whoever this was, caught her off guard before. He wouldn't do so a second time. Through the lingering soreness, she unleashed a concentrated fireworks blast. He responded with a nimble maneuver that looked very unlike his style, ducking out of the way and pulling off a punishing roundhouse kick that hit her square in the chest. This knocked her right back into the side of the bus, deepening the dent from before. Now dazed again, Bobby lunged forward and grabbed her by the neck.

"Ungh! You…you're _not_ Bobby!" grunted Jubilee.

"What makes you so sure about _that_?" he said dryly.

"Hnn…his grip isn't this lousy and he doesn't hit like a _girl_!"

The mysterious looked excessively bemused. This girl's detective skills were even worse than her fighting skills.

"I'd rather not say something ominous here and spoil the fun," he replied with a grin, "Now relax. By the time you wake up this will all be over."

"Like _hell_ I will!" said Jubilee, trying to knee him in the gut.

"Oh just for that, I'm not going to be as gentle as I planned."

Jubilee's counterattack failed. The knee to the gut was off target and did little damage. Not loosening his grip for a second, this person who clearly wasn'tBobby gritted his teeth and head-butted Jubilee as hard as he could. This effectively knocked the teenage girl out so that she went limp in his arms.

Once satisfied that Jubilee was out cold, he let her fall limply to the ground so that he could do what he needed to do. As he stood over her, his eyes flashed yellow and his form changed shape to a more appropriate form.

"Three down in less than an hour," muttered Mystique, "Not bad, but it's not like Sinister will ever be impressed."

Working quickly, the shape shifter took out another extraction device that was similar to the ones she used on Piotr Rasputin and Kitty Pryde. After taking a quick look around to make sure there weren't any witnesses, she knelt down and pressed the device up against a vein in her neck. With the push of a button, a small blood sample was collected and stored in a glass container.

Mystique now had her third and final sample for the day. It was a good thing too because this was one mission where she had to hide more disgust than usual. She had already done plenty of rotten things for Sinister since he enlisted his services. She hoped to avoid having to confront the X-men or those close to them. It wasn't just because they could ruin everything either. Her kids were still involved and she wanted to do as little harm to them as possible.

Now Sinister was really pushing it, especially after revealing that Rogue was one of his targets. She was sickened to think that at this very moment she was being attacked by another one of Sinister's Marauders.

'_You better have been gentle with her, Sinister. I don't care what kind of leverage you think you have on me. The second my daughter gets hurt, every promise you've made me means precisely dick.'_

Mystique pocketed the sample along with the other two she collected earlier and prepared to head out. Then her communicator started buzzing. She wasn't supposed to check in until she met up with Vertigo. If someone was calling her now, then that could only mean something was going horribly wrong.

"Damn it all to hell!" she groaned as she answered the call, "What is it now?"

"_There's been a slight change of plans, Mystique."_

"Define _slight_, Essex," said the shape shifter angrily, "Did that bitch, Vertigo, hurt my daughter?"

"_You're in no position to demand, but your daughter is not the problem so I'll let it slide. It appears Vertigo did not anticipate an unexpected guest on her mission. She's currently being chased through downtown Westchester by Psylocke."_

"This is my problem how?" scoffed Mystique.

"_Oh it's very much your problem when those samples are at risk. While I'm confident in Vertigo's skills, I always have room for doubt. So I want you to head downtown and tactfully make sure that those samples are secure."_

"And if she ends up being incompetent and clumsy?"

"_She knows the consequences of failure. I'm assuming you do as well. As such, I expect a successful excuse-free report by the end of the afternoon."_

The line went dead and Mystique was left to scorn Sinister from afar. This day had been bad enough. Now she was going to have to compensate for Sinister's lack of skilled associates. At the very least she could swing by and make sure Rogue was okay.

* * *

**Downtown Westchester**

"Go faster, you overpriced heap of junk!" cursed Vertigo towards the unmarked car she was stuck driving.

"Should have opted for speed over style, luv," Psylocke shouted out from behind, who was closing fast on her motorcycle.

The chase that began with Gambit and Rogue had turned downtown Westchester into a racetrack. Vertigo had a head start on Psylocke, but the car Sinister gave her was not built for a race. It would have been nice to have a motorcycle. But since her face and powers were hard to hide from the authorities, she had to drive this undersized and inconspicuous coupe. It certainly wasn't built for speed, which became painfully apparent as Psylocke rapidly closed the distance.

To make matters worse, the afternoon traffic in downtown Westchester was abysmal. She had to weave in and out of lanes, drive over curbs, and run several traffic lights. This caused plenty of commotion, including several fender benders. It was a lot easier for Psylocke because she could weave through the lanes faster and circumvent the obstructions. Since they were surrounded by large office buildings and the highway wasn't for another few blocks, Vertigo was essentially boxed in.

"Out of my way, damn it!" Vertigo shouted as she honked the horn, "All that advanced technology and Sinister makes me drive this Ford piece of shit."

She could hear the engine of Psylocke's motorcycle closing fast. She tried to accelerate, weaving through more cars and looking for a clearer path. She saw up ahead a heavy traffic jam that went from side to side, leaving her with no way to maneuver. It forced her to take more aggressive tactics.

"A traffic jam this early in the afternoon? Figures!" she grunted.

Still picking up speed, she rolled down her window and leaned out. She saw Psylocke pulling within a mere fifty feet of her. Taking matters into her own hands, Vertigo unleashed one of her vertigo blasts. It was bound to cause plenty of unwelcome damage and attention, but she could not afford to be tactful at this point.

The wavy pulse quickly expanded behind her and consumed both Psylocke and a few other cars. Both the cars ended up swerving off road. One of them crashed right into a fire hydrant while the other collided into a median. Psylocke maintained control of her motorcycle despite a sudden onslaught of nausea. Since the wave wasn't focused, the effects weren't as bad as they could have been. This allowed her to focus enough to counter the attack.

"So that's the way you want to play, bitch?" grunted Psylocke, "You're lucky I'm already pissed so consider this an act of mercy."

While maintaining careful control of her motorcycle, Psylocke formed a psionic blade in her right hand. With skilled maneuvering, she managed to escape from the wave for a moment. This allowed her vision to clear long enough to throw the blade right towards the car. It ended up hitting the rear left tire of Vertigo's car, causing it to burst.

As soon as the tire went out, Vertigo was forced to stop her attack and re-establish control of the car. She didn't have it for very long though. The blown tire was so bad that it caused the whole vehicle to swerve off the road.

"Son-of-a…OH SHIIIITTTT!" yelled Vertigo.

Her grip on the wheel was not strong enough nor was the car stable enough to avoid the rocky trip that followed. It ended up careening past oncoming traffic and crashed right into a hotdog stand before slamming against the side of an office building. The spectacle caused the owner of the hot dog stand and over two dozen pedestrians to run for their lives. By the time the car came to a screeching halt, the airbags deployed and Vertigo was left dazed and with a sizable wound on her forehead.

"Crazy drunk driver," yelled one of the pedestrians.

"Someone call the police!"

The commotion did not bode well for Vertigo. While the pedestrians cleared out and the chaos spread, Psylocke pulled up on her motorcycle and parked near the curb. Upon removing her helmet, she approached the now mangled car.

"This day's just going to keep getting worse for the both of us. You should quit while you're behind," Psylocke called out.

"Hnn…why must you insist on being so annoying?" grunted Vertigo from inside the car where she was still stuck.

"I came here expecting to confront my boyfriend about being such a prick lately. Since you've managed to screw up that plan, I might as well confront _you_ instead. Except with you, I can't rely on the promise of make-up sex."

"How nauseatingly sweet," she said dryly.

Psylocke neared the car with two psionic blades fully formed and ready for combat. Vertigo kept wrestling with the seatbelt and door of the car. It took some struggling, but she managed to break free and force the door open. As soon as she fell out, she took aim at Psylocke with her vertigo beam.

"Back off!" she demanded, "I've no time for your schoolyard hissy fits!"

"Then you'll have to make time," retorted Psylocke as she narrowly avoided the beam.

Psylocke employed the full force of her ninja skills, doing a few acrobatic maneuvers to avoid the vertigo beams. Now that Vertigo wasn't firing from a moving car, her aim and focus was better. It still wasn't good enough to catch the nimble X-woman. As Vertigo tried desperately to subdue her, she stumbled away from the car and started running away from her.

"A little early to be playing coward isn't it?" she taunted as she did a skilled backflip to avoid the beam.

"It isn't cowardice. It's strategy," said Vertigo.

Psylocke ignored her remarks and launched another attack. She ran up along the now mangled car and charged towards Vertigo for what would have been a finishing blow. But this played right into her enemy's strategy.

As soon as she was airborne, her ability to maneuver was gone. This meant Vertigo had a clear shot and Psylocke did not realize this until it was too late. As she descended towards Vertigo, she was helpless as the determined Marauder unleashed another powerful vertigo beam.

"Bloody hel-ahhhhhhhhhh!" Psylocke cried out.

"Happy landings!" grinned Vertigo.

Now consumed with nausea, Psylocke's skilled acrobatics turned into an unceremonious tumble onto the hard pavement below. She crashed right along the street next to Vertigo, landing right near a newsstand and losing her psionic blades in the process. Vertigo was plenty inclined to make her suffer even more than she had with Rogue and Gambit. Unfortunately, she didn't have the luxury of holding a grudge.

"There are so many ways I can make you suffer right now," she taunted, "But I'm a little behind schedule so I'll have to save my wrath for another time."

"Hnn…you're still a coward," groaned Psylocke through the pain.

"And you're the fool who jumped right into my beam. Which would you rather be?"

Vertigo hit her with one final blast before sprinting full speed in the opposite direction. Some pedestrians were still in her way, forcing her to use another vertigo beam to clear a path. It left behind ailing civilians and a very upset Psylocke who was still reeling from earlier.

'_Damn you, Remy. Damn you for making me care too much to run after you like this. I know jealousy and anger are an unhealthy mix for any relationship. This only makes it even more pathetic.'_

Since Psylocke's pain tolerances were higher than the surrounding civilians, she pulled herself up faster. She was still a bit woozy and in no condition to get back on her motorcycle. She couldn't even see Vertigo anymore through the crowds. She was going to be a lot harder to catch at this point. If she was going to make this outburst of hers productive, she needed a new strategy.

That strategy arrived through the air via Rogue and Gambit. They landed right next to Psylocke as soon as they saw her and Gambit quickly helped her up.

"You okay, Betsy? Did Vertigo get you with that puke ray too?" said Gambit.

"I'm fine. I'm amazed to see you actually give a damn," said Psylocke flatly, shaking off his help.

"Cherè don't…" groaned the Cajun.

"Save the make-up sex for later. Where is that walking hangover?" said Rogue firmly.

"Trying to limp away and doing a very pathetic job of it, what else?" replied Psylocke, pointing down the street towards Vertigo.

She wasn't moving nearly as fast as before. The earlier car crash had injured her more than Vertigo was willing to let on. She clearly had a bone fracture in her leg and was clutching her ribs. The pain was apparent as she limped along, gritting her teeth in agony with each step. When pedestrians got in her way, she used her vertigo beam to immobilize them. It filled the streets with pained cries, making her a threat that had to be taken down.

"Dang, we can't have that femme get away with making other folks feel just as pathetic," said Gambit.

"You two gonna help meh stop her or are you gonna need a few more lovers spats?" said Rogue dryly.

"You're _really_ tempting me, aren't you?" quipped Psylocke, "Well I'm not giving you the satisfaction."

"A simple yes would have worked too," said Rogue dryly, "Ah don't think we'll be needin' any elaborate plans from Cyclops for her. Ah'll cut her off. You two hit her with some fire power."

"Like fish in a barrel," said Gambit as he eyed the wounded mutant, "And Bets, promise me you'll be saving the melodrama for later."

"I promise. Can't say it'll make much of a difference," said Psylocke dryly.

Resisting the urge to further belittle her lover, Psylocke went along with her Gambit to take on this renegade Marauder. She figured the sooner she took down Vertigo, the sooner she could find a more effective means of dealing with their long list of problems.

Psylocke and Gambit prepared to attack while Rogue flew up over them. They closed on Vertigo fast, who could not limp away fast enough due to her injuries. Along the way they passed over a number of groaning pedestrians. This kind of outburst was sure to earn her the ire of the MSA and a prison cell at the very least. She eventually reached a corner near a busy intersection.

At this point, she had to stop and catch her breath. She had to lean on a signpost for support. At least two of her ribs were broken and her knee was killing her. She was nearing the limits of her pain tolerance.

"Stay back! Don't come any closer," yelled Vertigo.

"Yeah right," scoffed Psylocke as she and Gambit drew near, "Keep pretending you're not willing to attack innocent civilians just for the hell of it."

"I'm warning you! Come any closer and I'll unleash a wave that will cause the worst traffic disaster in _history_."

"Probably still be better than the Jersey Turnpike," said Gambit as he took out a fresh deck of cards.

"You think I'm bluffing?"

"Non, Gambit thinks you just _stupid_," said the Cajun as he turned towards his girlfriend, "Bets, you still okay with taking your anger out on someone other than Remy?"

"Gladly!" she said bitterly.

Vertigo was about to unleash another vomit-inducing wave. This time Psylocke was ready for her. Using her telepathy, she attacked with a powerful psychic onaslaught. It was a tactic she probably should have used earlier. But now that she was focused on ending this before any further damage could be done, she was able to hit Vertigo's mind in a way that ended her attack in the most painful of ways.

"Ungh!" grunted Vertigo, "Get out…of my…mind!"

"Those shields are tough to keep up with a bone bruise and broken ribs, aren't they?" taunted Psylocke, "Lucky for you, I don't have to break any more bones to beat you."

"You already be showing your hand, cherè. Now we showing ours," said Gambit.

With Vertigo paralyzed from Psylocke's telepathy, she was in no position to dodge an incoming charged card. It hit the sign post she was leaning on and exploded with a sharp burst that both bruised her eardrums and knocked her flat on her back.

"Augh! I swear I'll…" she began.

But Vertigo did not get to finish her threat. Once on her back, the only thing she saw was a clear blue sky and an ominous figure descending towards her. It was Rogue, the same woman she had attacked so callously earlier.

"Ah think you've _sworn_ enough for one day. Time for a time out, missy. You'll need it for when your new friends at the MSA gets here," said Rogue as she landed by her side and took off her gloves.

"Hnn…gonna be sick," was all Vertigo got out.

"Then consider us even…for the most part."

Rogue silenced her once and for all by placing her hand on Vertigo's forehead. This drained her of her remaining energy, causing her to pass out within seconds and effectively ending her rampage. What started as a trick on Rogue and Gambit turned into a disaster in broad daylight on the streets of downtown Westchester. There were still dozens of bodies lying around, all groaning in agony as a result of her attack. It was quite the public spectacle and would require some significant cleanup.

"Guess that's the end of that," said Gambit with a sigh of relief.

"Partially anyways," said Psylocke distantly, "There are still some unpleasant loose ends to resolve."

"You mean besides you evesdroppin' on us?" said Rogue dryly.

"Are you going to be a bitch about it and tell me I wasn't justified?" shot Psylocke.

"Considering how it turned out, Ah've earned that right," sadi Rogue, "Obviously, Sinister played a trick on us and you fell for it."

"Like you wouldn't have been worse had I not shown up," retorted the young psychic.

"Are you lookin' for a thank-you now? Because you'll end up in another body before Ah ever give you that."

Gambit forced himself between the two women. This day was turning out badly for him on so many levels. He was not equipped to deal with this now.

"Knock it off, you two!" he shouted, "Much as Remy enjoys seeing two beautiful women fight, we got us a serious mess here."

"If you're going to try and avoid this again…" Psylocke began.

"Remy ain't avoiding anything this time. This time, Remy's gonna play it safe and take it one step at a time," said the Cajun, "And the next step ought to be getting in touch with Professor Xavier, giving the MSA a call, and taking a moment to cool the hell down. Can we do that before we go at each other's' throats?"

Rogue and Psylocke kept staring each other down. Emotions were still running high, but the damage Vertigo did wasn't going away on its own. Without saying a word, the two women conceded to Gambit's request. However, it was now more apparent than ever that some difficult decisions had to be made.

* * *

**Later**

The rest of the afternoon was one prolonged clean-up effort. It all came together pretty quickly. The local MSA department was mobilized along with police and EMTs. Several blocks of Downtown Westchester were cordoned off so that the victims of Vertigo's attack could be treated and Vertigo herself could be safely contained. It made for a more hectic rush-hour, but it kept a bad situation from getting any worse.

Rogue, Remy, and Betsy stuck around to help out. Rogue flew around and gathered the ailing pedestrians, Betsy used her telepathy to make sure Vertigo stayed unconscious, and Remy informed the MSA officers of what happened. It was a process they had grown accustomed to over the past few months. It was tedious and cumbersome, but it had to be done. Since the X-men had a relationship with the MSA, they needed to be part of the process.

"This woman is disgusting in an entirely new way," commented the lead MSA officer, "My team has counted over three dozen cases of seizures and nausea. Half are already on their way to the Emergency Room. By my count that's at least 20 counts of aggravated assault."

"That enough to put her in a cell until the next ice age?" asked Remy.

"With the report you've given and plenty of witnesses, I'd say so. General Grimshaw is big on processing mutants like her quickly and efficiently."

"Whatever be making his people look good," said Remy, rolling his eyes, "Just be careful with this femme. She be involved with some bad people and she may know a thing or two worth knowing."

"Don't worry. Once she gets a taste of our new prison cells, she'll sing like Lady Gaga."

Remy didn't share the officer's confidence as he watched them haul away Vertigo on a special gurney. In order to make sure she didn't cause any trouble, they had her hands and feet completely bound with metal shackles. They also had an IV going into her arm that would help keep her unconscious during her trip an MSA mutant isolation chambers. While Remy was relieved to see her get hauled off, he couldn't help but wonder what she had been up to. She worked for Sinister and he hadn't forgotten what that monster did to Rogue. If he was playing a new game of sorts, then that was definitely cause for concern.

Whatever the case, Vertigo probably wouldn't give the MSA much to work with. Sinister was too smart to let that happen. This was sure to be another one of those lingering threats would plague the X-men, as if they didn't already have enough.

'_The hell are you after, Sinister? It ain't enough you put Rogue through all this personal hell by screwin' up her powers. Now you be wanting more? What game are you playing?'_

There were plenty of questions and Remy didn't have the energy to answer them. He had more immediate concerns involving his girlfriend and his former would-be girlfriend. Now that Vertigo was secure, Betsy could lift her telepathic safeguards. He struggled to make eye contact with her at first. This whole mess had been made more volatile by some of the issues they had been having lately.

"Feeling better yet, Betsy?" he asked her, "Be nice to know if Remy needs to prepare for another fight."

"Don't get too melodramatic on me, Remy. The past few hours have given me plenty time to cool down. I sure as hell needed it."

"That be putting it mildly," commented Remy.

"Hey, it's not like I didn't have a reason to be upset," she retorted, "I admit I overreacted. But can you seriously blame me?"

"Don't know. Depends on how long this has been brewing," said Remy.

"Considering how we've done a bloody good job of ignoring it, I'd say long enough."

Remy didn't argue her point. In a ways, he was the guilty one here. He gave Betsy one too many reasons to lash out at him. That didn't make what she did any less excessive. It was a sad sign about the state of their relationship and the burden was still on his shoulders to confront it.

While the two lovers processed this awkward moment, Rogue came flying in. She had just finished helping the EMTs load the last civilian into an ambulance. She was part of this issue too and true to her name, she didn't shy away from such conflict.

"Hey uh…Ah guess Ah'm interrupting something so Ah won't bother asking," she said, "But Ah have a pretty good idea of what you two are gonna talk about."

"All the more reason to give us some space," said Betsy bitterly.

"Why should Ah? If Ah'm a part of this, shouldn't Ah have a say?" she argued.

"Cherè, let's not pour hot sauce on this overcooked dish here. This be between Remy and his girlfriend."

"No, Ah ain't gonna be chased away," said Rogue strongly, "Ah've got something to say and you two might actually save yourselves a spat or two by listening."

Betsy angrily glared at Rogue, but Remy held her back. Rogue had a point. She was part of this, even if they didn't want to admit it. For that reason, she deserved a say in this conflict.

"Now clearly, Ah caused more than a little trouble into paradise when Ah went to Remy a while back. Ah wasn't lookin' to mess up anybody's relationship. Ah just needed a friend."

"Really? You know, you do have _other_ friends who don't happen to be my boyfriend," retorted Betsy.

"Ah know Ah do. It ain't like Ah don't talk to them, but like it or not Remy and Ah relate to one another ways beyond our thick accents. It's been…strange not being in the X-men. This crap with Amanda and mah brother takes up plenty of mah time. And to be honest…Ah ain't as equipped to deal with it as Ah thought. That's why Ah reached out to Remy. If it's been messin' things up between you two, Ah'm sorry."

"I'm not looking for an apology, Rogue. I don't doubt your sincerity even if I question the emotions behind it all," replied Betsy.

"So then what's the problem? Why do we gotta make a spectacle of all this?" asked Remy intently.

"The problem has to do with me being a telepath. I can still sense the little things you two are too _oblivious _to notice. I often get the sense that your intentions and Rogue's are having more or fan effect than you realize."

"Hey, don't expect meh to apologize for the stuff Ah ain't got control over. Your concerns about meh and mah emotions ain't mah fault," retorted Rogue.

"Even if it is certifiably mental, that doesn't mean it's wrong," she argued, "When I saw Remy run off the moment he heard that you were in trouble, that sent me over the edge. And now that we know this was all a trick by Sinister, I have even more reasons to be concerned."

"You make it sound like we be plotting against you," Remy quipped.

"I know that's not the case. It wouldn't even bug me as much if it were. What really upset me was that you never even _suspected_ this could be a ruse. You just reacted. Your emotions did the thinking for you. When a girl sees that, it's hard to wrap your head around. After grossly overreacting, she eventually comes to an inescapable conclusion."

Betsy paused for a moment. She offered Remy an affectionate gesture, but it was light and fleeting. She then turned to Rogue, who tried to hide her reaction. Being a telepath, Betsy could make the necessary connections. They were as painful as they were clear.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't stand being this mental about all these conflicting feelings," she told him, "It's too much strain on me and on you two for that matter. Our lives are stressful as it is. So why don't we save ourselves the trouble and make one aspect of it just a little bit easier?"

"So…that mean what Remy think it means?" said Remy in a low tone.

"We've already lasted longer than we should have, luv. I came to you because I needed help pulling myself together in a new life within a new body. Well we've scaled that mountain. We've run our course."

"You really gonna stand here and tell Remy you're completely okay now?" he asked skeptically.

"Not remotely," she replied, "But come on, Remy. Don't make me list the reasons why it isn't working. I'll just say thanks for everything and let's try to make this little transition period less awkward than it could be."

There weren't any tears or heartfelt apologies. There wasn't even a hug or an argument to be made. Elizabeth Braddock and Remy Lebeau just stood in silence. The message was clear. They had enough drama for one day. They seemed content to let all the rest of the details remain unsaid.

After one last meaningful glance, Betsy turned away from Remy and walked back towards her motorcycle at the other end of the block. Remy watch her, but did not follow. Betsy made her point and he agreed with it. This was the right thing to do. As his gaze remained fixated on Betsy, Rogue remained by his side with a somewhat awkward demeanor.

"Did you and Betsy just break up?" she asked him, finally breaking the silence.

"Why? You looking to be Remy's fallback gal already?" said Remy flatly.

"What? Dang it, Remy! Are you really gonna go back to flirting again?" exclaimed Rogue in an exasperated tone.

"It's how Remy copes," he said, his tone not changing, "Maybe Remy ought to be a bit more broken up than he should. It be hard, given Remy's history with women."

"So what's your strategy? Get over one girl by gettin' on top of another?" said Rogue dryly.

"I could do that," he said as he turned to face her, "But for now, Remy will settle for a friend."

Rogue half-expected something more philosophical. Instead, she got a sincere look and a light smile. It wasn't the classiest way for a man to handle a breakup, but it wasn't the most dishonest either. He cared for Betsy and wasn't looking to drag her into such an emotionally charged conflict. It was probably the most honest look she ever got from Remy. She couldn't hug him or kiss him, but she could offer her a comforting hand.

As Rogue and Remy stood on the curb and digested everything that had transpired, Bobby Drake came running from across the street. He was already short of breath and looked even more exasperated than they were.

"Hey guys!" he called out, "Professor Xavier called and told me about the big fight with Vertigo. I would have been down to help sooner, but something _seriously_ weird happened with Jubilee. First, I was late because _somebody_ borrowed my bus pass without asking. Then when I get there she's pissed in a way I've…"

By the time Bobby reached Rogue and Remy, he found out that they weren't even listening to him. They each had these strange looks, indicating that whatever happened here was much more interesting than his eventful encounter with Jubilee.

"Uh guys? Did you just here a word I said?" he asked.

"Sorry there, homme. It's been a crazy day," said Remy.

"Yeah…real crazy," said Rogue, still sharing his tone and smile.

"Come on! It can't be crazier than what I just went through," scoffed Bobby, "What happened anyways?"

"Ah'd rather not talk about," sighed Rogue.

"Neither would I. Right now, Remy be content with big old pot of gumbo and some barbeque chicken wings."

"Already on the road to recovery, Ah see," she laughed, "Might as well tag along to make sure you don't overstuff yourself with breakup guilt."

"Breakup?" said Bobby, now more confused than ever, "Who broke up? What the hell is going on?"

Rogue and Remy were already on their way towards the nearest barbeque place. They were ready put this day behind them while Bobby was still clamoring for details.

"Come on, guys! Don't leave me in the dark like this. What happened?"

Bobby went chasing after Remy and Rogue, seeking clarity on this exceedingly chaotic afternoon. The MSA and the local authorities had everything under control. Vertigo was in custody and the people were safe. Any lingering loose ends could wait.

While the X-men were leaving the scene, the MSA prepared to seal Vertigo in the back of an armored van. Still unconscious on the gurney, she wasn't going anywhere. The MSA officers were about to close the van and lock it. Then a balding, middle-aged male EMT worker came rushing towards them.

"Wait!" he called out.

"Damn it, doc! We've gotta get this perp to a containment cell," said one of the MSA officers that had been trying to close the doors.

"Well if you want her to stay unconscious, you'll let me in to make one final calibration to the sedatives," said the EMT, "That way she doesn't wake up before you get her in a cell."

This revelation was enough to get the MSA officers to step aside so the EMT could enter the van and do what needed to be done. He was only in there for about ten seconds. The officers didn't even bother to look at what he did. Once the EMT stepped out from the van, he nodded in affirmation. Now they could get this dangerous mutant away from Downtown Westchester.

"Is it ready _now_?" said the officer dryly.

"It's ready," assured the EMT.

"It better be. For the shit this woman has done, there isn't a cell dark enough for her miserable ass."

The doors to the van were promptly closed up and locked. Once the officers gave the thumbs up to the driver, the van drove away along with a heavy MSA convoy to a holding cell where she wouldn't be able to carry out any more missions for Sinister. However, that didn't mean she hadn't succeeded in her mission.

Once the van was out of sight, the lone EMT reached into his pockets and pulled out two small vials of blood. They were the samples Vertigo collected from Rogue and Gambit earlier. Once the EMT made sure they were safe, his eyes flashed yellow briefly with a smug sense of satisfaction.

'_Serves you right, Vertigo. Sinister had the audacity to send you after my children. I hope they stick you in a cell right next to Toad. But now the X-men know Sinister is up to something. Since I'm not one of his mindless henchmen, it may be wise for me to take some precautionary measures.'_

* * *

**Unknown Location**

Nathaniel Essex had been a busy man. While the rest of the world indulged in the technology from the Genosha treaty, he was hard at work with much more ambitious plans. In many ways the fragile peace forged by Charles Xavier and the authorities was a blessing. Everyone was so focused on maintaining the economic boom that they he was allowed to work without scrutiny. Nobody was in a position to outwit him and everyone that could've stopped him was too distracted.

The past six months had been tedious to say the least. Science, especially when it came to mutants, was a painfully slow process. Since enlisting the help of Mystique, Sinister had been conducting a series of experiments involving the mutant DNA he extracted from Cyclops, Jean Grey, and Wolverine. Those experiments required a number of costly components, many of which had to be carefully acquired or outright stolen. Each experiment brought more progress and with each successive step, he made sure his operations remained secret.

Unfortunately, the evolving nature of his experiments forced him to risk such secrecy. In order to attain the necessary data, he needed genetic samples from more mutants. Some of those mutants included the X-men and those close to them. Since time was working against him, the risk seemed worth taking. However, his latest report from Mystique showed that even the most careful plans could encounter complications. He had been on a secure communication line for the past half-hour, learning from the shape shifter how Vertigo's mission went horribly wrong.

"So Vertigo managed to get herself arrested? A pity…no, don't bother breaking her out, Mystique. Time in prison will allow her to reflect on her failure…of course not, I've already taken precautions. Rest assure, she won't reveal anything about my operation…I just know. Stop worrying and tell me you have the samples she collected…excellent! Then return to base. I'll have your next mission for you soon…oh don't you worry. We're nearing the home stretch as they say. You'll get what you want soon enough. We both will."

With a sigh of minor annoyance, Sinister closed the secure line. He turned his attention back to his experiments, which had taken up nearly every square inch of his new lab. Since the X-men destroyed his previous lab, he set up shop in one of his many backups. An array of bio tanks and chemical vats fed a tangled web of plastic tubes, each flowing with an array of complex chemical concoctions. They all converged around an area near the back of the lab where the fruits of his labor would emerge.

Having stood by his side every step of the way, Gabriel Summers watched with far less patience. All this science talk was not his specialty. He had been a part of Sinister's plans from the beginning and was determined to see them through. While Sinister didn't seem worried about their current status, Gabriel had his share of concerns.

"So we've lost Vertigo and now the X-men are aware of our activities," Gabriel surmised, "I think it's safe to say this latest gamble has backfired horribly."

"I wouldn't say it backfired in a _horribly_, my boy. We still got what we needed. Mystique is on her way back with the samples," said Sinister confidently.

"Except now Xavier and his cronies will be on alert. It'll be much more difficult to stay under the radar, especially if we end up having to acquire more samples."

"Xavier has enough on his plate with the Genosha treaty. I don't foresee him dedicating nearly enough resources to stop me at this point. We're too close to the crown jewel of my experiment!"

"You've been saying that for months," said Gabriel dryly, "It's always one step after the other. The end never comes!"

"That's how science works, Gabriel. It _never_ ends. It's always a process, working towards bigger and better fruits," said Sinister distantly as he admired the intricacies of his work.

"Well those fruits better bloom soon because if the X-men do end up interfering, we had best have the upper hand. I'm still itching for a rematch against my baby brother and his playmates," he seethed, his eyes flashing bright red for a moment.

"You'll get your rematch, Gabriel. Try and contain that vast reservoir of energy within you. You'll need it now that Vertigo was foolish enough to get caught. That defining Summers leadership will have to guide the Marauders through the last few missions."

"Not that I'm against upstaging my brothers, but that may obstruct my other duties…one of which involves keeping an eye on Mystique," Gabriel reminded.

"Yes, I know how much you enjoy _that_ responsibility," said Sinister.

"You know how I feel about that woman. Everyone, including Selene, feels the same way. She's not to be trusted and this latest incident will give her more reasons to screw us over."

Gabriel's concerns weren't without merit. The decision to enlist Mystique had not been popular. He was the only one who pushed for it. Selene had a bit of history with her when she clashed with the Azazel. She knew better than most how much trouble she could cause. In a sense this was exactly why Sinister chose her. It all came down to having the right leverage.

"I'll tell you exactly what I told Selene…let me worry about Mystique. I know how to keep her in line," said Sinister strongly, "She's a determined woman, but she won't risk losing the answers she knows I have."

"She better not. Otherwise I won't hesitate to finish her like I know Selene wanted to years ago," said Gabriel bitterly, "Speaking of which I noticed that she, Madelyn, and Exodus have been very busy lately."

"What's wrong, my boy? Is your lady love too busy for the decadent debauchery you two so frequently enjoy in your free time?" said Sinister wryly.

"That's one of the reasons," admitted Gabriel, "Decadent or not, I think I deserve to know why the rest of the Marauders have been left in the dark."

"You make it sound as though I'm keeping secrets," he scoffed, "Do you really think that poorly of the man who gave you all the power you're so fond of wielding?"

"Does that mean I'm right?"

"No, it just means this is the first time you've bothered to ask," retorted Sinister wryly, "There's nothing _ominous_ about it. Selene has just been working on a plan of her own that happens to coincide with mine."

"I don't see how frequent trips to South America coincide with anything we're doing," said Gabriel skeptically.

"Oh I assure you it will! In fact, I think you'll like what she and Madelyn have been working on," said Sinister ominously.

"You know I don't like surprises."

"You may after this," he grinned, "Now do you want to be an ungrateful brat or do you want to help me as I've so often helped you?"

Gabriel tensed under Sinister's harsh tone. He had enough firepower to devastate entire city blocks and the arrogance to use it, but that didn't mean he was without respect. Sinister was like a father to him, even more so than that pitiful excuse he had for a biological father. He owed this man everything and this ambitious plan of his promised to give even more. He was in this to the end regardless of his suspicions.

"What is the next step, my dear Uncle?" said Gabriel respectfully.

"That's my boy," grinned Sinister, not taking his eyes off his experiment, "First off, I want you to give the unfortunate news about Vertigo to the rest of the Marauders. Then I want you to tell them I'll be bringing in a replacement."

"Already? Who could you get to fill in this quickly?" he asked.

"Someone who owes me a few favors and happens to share your sentiment towards Mystique," said Sinister ominously, "He won't have the same ability as Vertigo, but he more than makes up for it in raw muscle. Like Mystique, he just needs the right _incentive_."

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Logan's Dormitory**

It was just past midnight when Logan returned from his latest trip to Genosha. He arrived in time to find out there had been an incident in Downtown Westchester. One of Sinister's goons came out from the woodwork and all kinds of trouble. Rogue, Remy, and Betsy contained the situation, but it was still disappointing. Logan preferred being on the front line of the action, especially when Sinister was involved. It was a hell of a lot more exciting than the shit going on in Genosha.

Since the whole hacking incident, things had been a lot quieter on the island. The military base stepped up their security and so did Wanda. The ports were now more closely monitored than the White House and all the connections going in and out of the island were more secure. He checked every one of them just in case, even if it meant annoying some overpaid military officer or giving the Brotherhood even more reasons to hate him.

It wasn't completely uneventful. Every so often something would go wrong or someone would slip up. Sometimes a mutant or an underpaid contractor would cause trouble that required the use of his claws. He was always there to stop them without making too much of a mess, albeit not enough to prevent him from annoying nearly everyone he worked with.

'_These trips back and forth to Genosha are almost as rough as a three day bender. Long stretches of nothing with the occasional brawl…guess that's what Chuck thinks I'm the one for the job. I already missed out on some action. Probably would have been a lot quicker taking down Vertigo if I was there to maul her. Bet I could have gotten her to spill the beans on Sinister's latest shit storm. I sure as hell would like another shot at that pasty faced dirt bag.'_

It was a missed opportunity. Logan hadn't forgotten how Sinister messed him up during their last encounter. He also hadn't forgotten about the secrets he revealed. This was a guy who admitted to working on Weapon X with a smile on that deranged face of his. If anyone could shed light on his past, it was Sinister. One day he would get another chance to beat the truth out of him. This latest incident seemed to indicate that he'll get an opportunity sooner rather than later.

'_I'll be ready for you next time, Sinister. Now that I ain't drunk all the time, I'm ready to take you're ugly ass down. Hell, between you and Genosha, I may just have enough time for another quick bender.'_

With more disgruntled groans, Wolverine stripped off his uniform and went to grab a bottle of Jack Daniels from his dresser. As he did, he noticed there was an unmarked envelope under it.

"The hell? We stop using email or something?" he said as he reached down to pick it up.

The former living weapon sniffed the envelope and found no discernible scent. That revealed one of two possibilities. Either the one who left it was a freak of nature or someone went to great lengths to make sure there was no smell to tip him off. He also felt something thick inside the envelope, indicating there was more than a letter inside. Curious yet cautious, Wolverine drew a claw and opened it.

Inside he discovered a hand-written letter and what appeared to be a dog tag. The dog tag caught his attention first. It didn't have anything revealing on it. In fact, it looked brand new. It only had one bit of information on it and that was the name, Logan. Something about it still seemed off so he turned to the letter for answers.

_Logan,_

_I know you don't want to hear from me, but for some reason I feel compelled to write this. As we speak, I'm caught up in something big. It may be bigger than I suspect and will likely blow up in my face. So just in case, I've made you my failsafe. That dog tag you're holding is no ordinary dog tag. It has in it a special transceiver that will activate the moment I'm in over my head. I can't tell you what it will do. I can only tell you that when it activates, you'll know it. You may not care, but I know you'll do what needs to be done. Don't ask me how I know. I just do. I'm looking for the same answers you are. That way we can spare ourselves further frustration and go back to hating each other. Just hold onto that dog tag and don't let anyone else know about this letter._

_Mystique_

_PS: Keep an eye on my kids while you're at it._

Logan's grip on the letter tensed. The paper crumbled in his hand as a range of emotions came over him. This was yet another cryptic message from Mystique, who he almost kissed a second time when he last saw her during the Cambrian affair. There were a lot of unanswered questions between them. For reasons neither one of them understood, something kept drawing them together.

He could have just tore up the letter and tossed the dog tag. It would have been the easiest and most logical thing to do. He should probably go to the Professor as well and let him know that Mystique is up to something. Maybe Hank could cut the dog tag open, fool with the electronics, and track it to her. It made perfect sense. Every logical whim was urging him to do this. But something else kept urging him otherwise.

Without further contemplation, Logan folded up the letter and stashing it in his dresser. Then he took the dog tag and put it in his pocket. Something inside him compelled him to do as Mystique requested. It was stronger than the myriad of rational forces telling him otherwise. It made no sense. Nothing involving Mystique made sense. He took little solace in the knowledge that she was just as messed up about it as he was. Until one of them found some answers, this mysterious feeling would continue to affect them.

'_I know I'm gonna regret this. The rate I'm going, all the distractions and booze in the world ain't gonna help. I need answers. At least with Mystique going crazy too, I ain't the only one.'_

* * *

**Up next: School Daze**


	7. Issue 104: School Daze

**Issue #104  
School Daze**

* * *

_As the next stage in human evolution, mutants are developing extraordinary powers in a world not ready to accept them. Professor Charles Xavier and his X-men fight for that acceptance and they've struggled to counter the emerging human/mutant conflicts. In the midst of this struggle, it's easy to forget that the Xavier Institute is still a school._

_Now they might not be the only game in town. Not long ago, they reconnected with former X-man, Emma Frost. After apparently betraying the X-men, Emma revealed that a Sebastian Shaw, the former Black King of the Inner Circle, had leverage over her. While she was working for him as a stripper at the Hellfire Club, he stole her eggs and made clones of her that he named the Stepford Cuckoos. Emma later rescued her girls, but lost two of them in a struggle with Shaw's son, Shanobi. Now seeking redemption, she draws inspiration from her X-men legacy._

_Armed with money she earned while working at a hedge fund, Emma Frost has opened the Academy of Tomorrow. This new school promises to expand on what the Xavier Institute built upon. Emma already has a number of promising students. After her recent adventure with Cyclops and Phoenix, she has opened the doors of her academy to the X-men. However, with new opportunities come various challenges._

* * *

**Downtown Boston – Academy of Tomorrow**

"The Academy of Tomorrow," read Kitty Pryde as she stood before an imposing structure, "Not a real subtle name, but I guess it works better than calling it the _other_ school for mutants."

"You sound like you're sizing up the competition, Kitty," teased Jean Grey, who was standing next to her.

"Are you telling me this doesn't qualify? It's a school, it's full of mutants, and it's being run by a former X-man."

"That shouldn't be cause for concern," added Scott as he joined the two girls, "If Emma really wanted competition, she wouldn't have invited us to tour the campus."

"Could just be her way of showing off her fancy new digs," scoffed Kitty.

"This is Emma Frost we're talking about. Showing off is part of her charming personality," snickered Jean, "Had we not helped her against Shanobi Shaw recently, I may share your concerns, Kitty. But I'm willing to give Emma the benefit of the doubt."

"Even if it means giving her another chance to betray us?"

Kitty Pryde's remarks earned her a harsh glare from Jean and Scott. She shrugged innocently, accepting it up to one of those comments that was too blunt for everyone besides her. Jean and Scott were willing to let it slide though. Emma Frost's betrayal with the Inner Circle was still fresh in everyone's mind. Even though they filled them in on what happened with Shanobi Shaw and the Stepford Cuckoos, there was still plenty of skepticism.

Never-the-less, Emma still worked to make amends. She stayed in touch with Scott and Jean. They even helped with the funeral for Esme and Sophie, the daughters she lost at the hands of Shanobi Shaw. These were bleak circumstances for them to reconnect, but this visit was their way of starting anew.

This time Emma invited Charles Xavier and anyone else he cared to include on this visit to her new school. The Academy of Tomorrow campus was located near the outer city limits of Boston and was built from an old boarding school. Thanks to Emma's vast financial resources, she gave it a substantial renovation. It had a very similar feel to the Xavier Institute. The campus was gated, the buildings were nicely designed, and there was a very modern aura to the area. Upon exiting the cab, Professor Charles Xavier led Scott, Jean, Ororo, Kitty, and Betsy to the front gates.

"This is quite a campus, Professor. I didn't realize Emma had such _vast_ connections," commented Ororo.

"Emma has always been a very resourceful woman. Her ability to make remarkable progress in a short amount of time is one of her defining attributes," said Xavier, smiling as he took in the facility before him.

"You mean third most after the ones that fill her bra," said Kitty under her breath.

"Based on what I've heard, I'm sure some of that _progress_ wasn't entirely honest," said Betsy dryly.

"You don't even know her and you're already making harsh judgments?" asked Ororo with a slight scorn, "I expect that from Kitty, but not from you, Betsy."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be harsh. I guess I'm still a bit bitter towards the accomplishments of _beautiful people_," she sighed.

"I take it you mean Remy," said Ororo, offering a more reassuring gesture.

"You dated him too, luv. You of all people should know the phases I'm going through."

"Which is why I feel it's best for you to join us," said Professor Xavier, "It may be beneficial for you to see the less obvious influences of the X-men."

"So long as it distracts me from all things Cajun, I'll manage," she sighed, "Just don't expect me to be all smiles and sunshine. I'm still several phases away from that point."

It was no secret that Betsy had been going through a rough patch after breaking up with Remy. She and Remy hadn't talked much since it happened. He was coping better because he had Rogue to lean on. Betsy didn't have that luxury. She didn't know much about Emma Frost or her history, but she was badly in need of a break from all the drama.

With the Professor and the X-men, the gate automatically opened and they were greeted by Emma Frost. She was wearing what may have been the most appropriate attire they had seen her wear in some time. She looked like a full-fledged business woman, wearing a nicely tailored pantsuit. It was still a bit revealing around the chest area and was white like everything else she wore, but that was to be expected. Even if she was now principal of a school, she was still Emma Frost.

"Professor Charles Xavier, you have a knack for making your presence known," greeted Emma Frost, "Welcome to the Academy of Tomorrow."

"It's a pleasure to be here, Emma. You're looking lovely as always," said Xavier in a friendly tone.

"I expect to be nothing short of fabulous in front of the X-men, despite recent events."

"That's a relief. Some of us still worry. Especially after what happened with Shaw," said Scott.

"You of all people should know I'm not one to wallow in sorrow, darling," said Emma with an aura of confidence, "But I prefer we avoid such grim topics. The Academy has much to offer and I'm sure the X-men are interested in how my students measure up."

"So you _are_ flaunting for the competition," commented Kitty.

"Competition is such an ugly word, even if it made me obscenely rich at my hedge fund. I'd like to think of it as a partnership. Unless, of course, you feel _threatened_ by another mutant school."

"Let's not get overly competitive just yet. This is supposed to be a _friendly_ tour," said Ororo, stepping between Kitty and Emma.

"I'm confident most of you will remember that. It's not my fault if others are horrendously insecure," replied Emma, still staring down Kitty.

Kitty scolded the older blond, but didn't respond as Emma led Professor Xavier and the team onto the campus. Despite the recent clash against Shanobi Shaw, Kitty wasn't around when Emma was an X-man. She wasn't convinced of her sincerity just yet and she wasn't the only one either.

"She's harsh," commented Betsy.

"You think?" said Kitty.

"Give her a chance," said Jean, rolling her eyes, "If I can give her a chance despite being Scott's ex, you can too."

"If only you could sound slightly less uncomfortable while saying that, luv," teased Betsy.

"Also keep in mind, you _volunteered_ to tag along. If you want to go back to the mansion and resume class work with Mr. McCoy, be my guest. I'll telekinetically throw you there if you're that eager," said Jean in a not-so-subtle tone.

"I'll pass, thanks," muttered Kitty.

"Me too," muttered Betsy, "I'm sure the boys are having _plenty_ of fun without us catching up on classwork."

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Main Classroom**

"Do you have any Threes, comrade?" asked Piotr Rasputin as he sat behind his desk.

"Threes? Homme, we ain't playin' Go Fish," said a bemused Remy Lebeau.

"I know we are. I ask because if you did have any threes, your eyes would have shifted. Since they didn't, I now know you aren't playing a high card and can adjust accordingly."

Remy Lebeau raised an eyebrow. He had seen many strange poker strategies, but that was right up there in terms of absurdity. Perhaps they played by different rules in Russia. It should have bothered him a lot more, but he was hardly in the mood to make a big deal out of it.

He and Piotr were supposed to be in the middle of an online lesson. They had been consumed by class work since early in the morning and had done enough catching up to warrant a break. Since some of the team went on a field trip to Massachusetts, it was pretty quiet. Mr. McCoy was scheduled to do one more lecture for the day. It should have started an hour ago, but he got sidetracked by a phone call from his girlfriend. That was just fine with Remy. Distracting himself with assignments only went so far in helping him deal with his breakup with Betsy.

'_Remy shouldn't be feeling this low. It ain't like Betsy and me was gonna last. Hell, it was just a few steps deeper than a few booty calls. Heck, it probably should have ended months ago. I'm supposed to be the philosopher here. So why the hell can't Remy make sense of it?'_

Remy folded his hand, rendering Piotr the winner before they could even deal a second time. It came as a surprise to the Russian. In the time he had been at the Xavier Institute, he had never seen the Cajun so willingly forfeit a game of poker.

"You're not going to try and cheat your way out of your lousy hand?" teased Piotr.

"Remy don't cheat. Remy don't gotta," he said flatly.

"Is that your _only_ reason?" said the Russian as he tossed aside his hand, "You are not your usual competitive self. It takes the fun out of this unexpected lull as it is called."

"It ain't no lull. We just waiting on the teach to get back from cyber-humping his girl."

"A week ago, you would have said that in a less bitter tone. Has breaking up with Betsy really affected you _that_ much?"

Remy muttered a string of French curses under his breath. Piotr had been hanging around Kitty Pryde too much. He was already picking up her knack for being excessively blunt. At least he wasn't nearly as harsh. Piotr may have been as strong as his metal skin implied, but he was always friendly. He was probably the best guy to be around at a time like this.

Still not answering Piotr's question, the Cajun took the deck of cards and began shuffling them. The expression on his face didn't change. Either he was thinking hard about something or trying hard not to think at all.

"I take it this is still a sensitive issue. I apologize for bringing it up," said Piotr.

"You ain't gotta apologize, homme," sighed Remy, "Guess it's better that you be the one to bring it up. Stormy would keep pushin' Remy to talk about it, Wolverine would encourage Remy to drink it all away, and who knows what Kitty would say."

"Well to your credit, you seem to be doing much better than Betsy," the Russian pointed out, "She is still quite _moody_. Earlier this morning I ate some of her favorite cereal and she pointed a psychic blade at my throat."

"I ain't gonna make excuses for her. She got wronged. Ain't no way around it."

"Wronged how? By you?" questioned Piotr.

"Why else would I be beatin' myself up? I may be a crook, but I ain't no sociopath. When Remy hurts someone, Remy feels guilt," he said distantly.

"I wouldn't say you hurt her, comrade. You broke up with her. That is not the same."

"It ain't that simple. It shouldn't have gotten this far to begin with. Bets and me got together because of circumstance. She be in a rough place after she switched bodies. She needed someone to lean on…in more ways than one. Remy ended up being that someone."

"And these circumstances, as you say, were not good?" Piotr questioned.

"It was only good until the circumstances changed."

Remy stopped shuffling the cards. Looking down at the deck, he drew the top card. It was a queen of hearts, which had always held a special place for him. It brought back so many memories of his tortured love life and how he found numerous ways to mess it up.

"You all probably figured it by now, but I already got me a special lady that's never far from Remy's mind," said the Cajun.

"You are talking about Rogue, yes?" said Piotr.

"Ain't like Remy's subtle about it," he sighed, "Rogue and me hit it off from the get go. Heck, we probably be double datin' with Scott and Jean right now if Sinister didn't mess up her powers. But even after she lost control, Remy ain't stopped feeling for her. A few times I even tried to make a move, but Rogue ain't having it. Problem was the more we tried to keep things casual, the closer we got."

"I don't know much about romance, but even I find that pretty unusual," said Piotr, trying to be as polite about it as he could.

"That's where things with Betsy went from a misdemeanor to an all-out felony. When Rogue left the team, it messed us both up. And somehow, we couldn't stay away from each other. All the while, I'm stringing Betsy along. Even after she be all nice and snug with her new body, we kept going at it. She needed someone who could be more than comfort and she wanted Remy to be that guy."

"But you could not be _that guy_," Piotr surmised.

Remy's expression fell and he drew another card. This time it was the two of clubs, one of the lowest cards he could draw. It was another appropriate symbol of his current state. He hurt one woman and was still hung up on another that he couldn't be with. He was torturing himself and getting other people caught up in it as well.

"You know more about the femmes then you think, Pete," said the Cajun, "Remy was a dang fool. I just kept drawin' it out until it blew up in Remy's face."

"What kept you calling it off?" asked the Russian.

"Aside from the steady supply of therapeutic sex, a number of things," he said, "Remy's still makin' sense of it. I ain't figured it out, but sooner or later something's gotta give."

"And Rogue? You are still talking to her about this?"

"As much as Remy can get away with," he conceded, "That wild card ain't goin' nowhere."

"Then it sounds to me like you already know where and with whom you want to end up. You just aren't sure how to get there," said Piotr with a slight grin.

"You're a smart homme, Pete. But you still got a lot to learn," said Remy, managing somewhat of a grin, "It ain't that simple. It never is. When you get around to hookin' up with Kitty, you'll see what I mean."

Piotr shifted awkwardly. The mention of Kitty Pryde always triggered mixed emotions. It was one of those poorly kept secrets, much like Remy and Rogue. He and Kitty shared an obvious attraction. They hadn't made much of it, but there was definitely some chemistry. For that reason, it was probably wise to avoid discussing it further. Remy seemed to know every possible way of doing the wrong thing in these instances.

The two men fell silent and Remy set down the deck of cards. The more they waited, the less likely it seemed they would be getting a lecture from Mr. McCoy. Since this kind of down time was rare, they should probably make the most of it. Remy was about to deal a new game of poker when the classroom doors burst open and Bobby came rushing in.

"I'm-so-sorry-I'm-late-I-got-caught-up-talking-to-Jubilee-please-don't-fail-me-for…"

The young mutant stopped dead in his tracks. He had been talking a mile-a-minute, sounding short of breath and panicked. When he looked around the classroom and only saw Remy and Piotr, Bobby was confused.

"Oh man, don't tell me I missed Mr. McCoy's lecture again," groaned Bobby.

"Actually, you still technically early," said Remy, who couldn't resist messing with him.

"Huh? I thought the lecture was an _hour_ ago," he said with even more confusion.

"It was. Then Mr. McCoy got a call from his girlfriend," Piotr clarified.

"He said it would only take a few minutes. We still be waiting," added Remy.

Bobby was deadpanned, but relieved. He came running down from his room thinking he was in big trouble. It turned out he was in the clear.

"Thank God, Heaven, and everything in between. I'm _not_ completely screwed for once," he said in an exasperated tone.

"We still have assignments," reminded Piotr, "Since Mr. McCoy does not appear to be returning anytime soon, there is plenty of time to complete them."

"Are you kidding? This is great! This means I can catch Jubilee before she goes on patrol," said Bobby with renewed energy, "If I'm lucky, I can still soothe things over after that mess at the bus station."

Without hesitation, Bobby turned around and ran out of the classroom. He still had an angry girlfriend that needed to be placated in a big way. He had failed miserably thus far, but that didn't mean he would stop trying.

Piotr and Remy exchanged glances. They heard about Bobby's recent troubles with Jubilee. Something really strange happened the day of the Vertigo attack and nobody was quite sure what to make of it. Apparently, Bobby had a history of letting his love interests make him look foolish. This was no exception.

"Guess we ain't the only ones who need to learn a thing or two about femmes," laughed Remy as he dealt some cards.

"So it would seem," said Piotr, laughing a bit as well, "In Russia we have a saying. You only understand your misfortune when you fall in love."

* * *

**South Boston**

"What the hell is the hold up?! I gotta get to City Point already!" yelled an angry driver in the midst of a typical Bostonian traffic jam.

"Cool your jets, pal! They're still clearing the roads," said a nearby city worker.

"From what? An invasion by Yankees fans?"

"Don't ask me! All I know is the street's torn up and the city wants it fixed. If you want to slow us down, keep bitching. If not, put a sock in it and let us do our jobs."

The restlessness lingered among dozens of cars looking to get to City Point. Some of them were already turning around in search of another route. Most were stuck waiting. It wasn't like road work was unusual in Boston. It seemed a new street was closed every other day. However, that didn't make this little obstruction any less frustrating.

Unknown to the drivers, it wasn't just a pothole that had closed the road. Behind the concrete dividers, the city workers were confronted with an unusual problem. There were a series of deep imprints in the concrete. They looked like footsteps, leading from a nearby sidewalk to the middle of the street. Those smaller imprints led to a much larger hole that went down into the sewer system. It was a real mess and the road crews were scrambling to fix it.

"Good God, if this is someone's idea of a prank, they ought to be strung up over City Hall and beaten with hammers," groaned one city worker who led part of the crew in filling the smaller holes.

"I'm sure the Mayor will declare war on whoever's behind it. Southie's got enough problems with vandalism. We don't need punks going for the gold by holding up traffic!" said another worker.

"Both of you quit your whining! At least you only have to fill in the potholes. We gotta fix this little piece of the grand canyon over here," said a worker who was looking over the large hole in the middle of the street.

"That ain't going to get done today so hurry up and fill those holes!" yelled the foreman, "We need to get at least one lane of traffic flowing before all of Southie turns on us."

Work continued at a brisk pace. The repairs were almost done for the small potholes while a larger group of workers prepared to start work on the big hole in the center of the street. They set up a series of cranes and winches to help lower them down into the sewers. They had to put up some supports and check the utility lines before they started the repairs. Several workers were already prepared to take the plunge. At the very least, the sewer would offer an escape from the angry drivers and honking horns.

"Okay boys, lower us down! Let's get this shit over with and collect our overtime," said one of the workers.

A quick thumbs-up from the foreman and the winch was activated. Three workers were lowered into the sewers to begin their survey. They had on special helmets with lights so they could observe the extent of the damage. Overall, there wasn't much to see. They saw some broken pipes, shattered brick, and scattered debris from above. It wasn't the worst damage these old streets had endured, but fixing it wouldn't be any less of a hassle.

"Jeez, looks like someone dropped a wrecking ball down here," commented a worker.

"I got twenty it's another case of a drunk trucker with an overstuffed load," said another.

"Whoever it was, they left a hell of a mess," said the surveyor looking over the damage, "We'll need to scrape together some temporary supports before they start paving. If this was a case of something heavy punching through the street, we gotta find it and haul it out of here."

While the other two workers focused mainly on the walls, the main surveyor tried to trace the source of the destruction. He could see some broken pipes spewing water into the storm drain and some piles of brick obscuring the tunnels. At one point he had to adjust his light so he could focus a bit further down. As he did, something strange came into view and it wasn't a wrecking ball or some heavy piece of equipment.

"Hey guys! Someone's down here!" he exclaimed.

"What? Who the hell would be dumb enough to get stuck in a sewer?"

The two other workers directed their lights further down and saw a body lying face down under a pile of brick and debris. Thinking it could be some unlucky utility worker, they moved in for a closer look. As their lights illuminated the figure, it started moving. It was at this point they realized that this was no ordinary figure.

"Hnn…the hell?" said the figure in a raspy tone.

"Hey buddy! You okay? You need an ambulance or something?" said the surveyor.

The three workers tried to clear some of the debris. That's when they made a shocking revelation. As the figure arose, the debris rose as well. It turned out the figure was a lot bigger than he appeared. It had a humanoid shape, but didn't look human. It had a large masculine frame, but instead of skin his body was covered in jagged rocks. It was hard to make out if the figure even had a face. When it stood up completely, it towered over the three workers in a very intimidating way.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed the worker.

"What the hell is that?" the surveyor exclaimed.

"My…my name is Santo Vaccarro. I…I'm in the middle of a nightmare. I need help waking up," the figure cried.

"Pull us the fuck outta this pit!" the other worker yelled up.

The three workers panicked, tugging relentlessly on their tow lines to signal their co-workers to pull them out. Within seconds they started ascending.

For Santo Vaccarro, it was a desperate moment with little signs of getting better. For a brief moment, these guys looked inclined to help him. Now they were running away. They were going to leave him alone again and he couldn't bear that feeling again.

"No! Don't leave me in this dump!" he yelled.

With the workers halfway up, the rocky figure grabbed onto one of the tow lines. As he did, the surveyor attached to it was nearly ripped from his restraints. In addition, the whole winch system above let out a loud clank and was stopped cold.

"Let go, you oversized freak!" yelled the surveyor.

"You'll get out another way. I won't," grunted the rocky figure.

Ignoring the complaints, Santo grabbed the other two lines and used them to climb up out of the hole. As he did, the winch continued to let out more ominous noises. It sounded like it was ready to fail. As he neared the surface, the workers above started to panic.

"What the hell is going on down there? Talk to me!" yelled the foreman.

The three workers didn't get a chance to answer. As both teams crowded around the hole, Santo reached the top and grabbed onto the edges of the hole. As soon as everybody saw his rocky form, they gasped and pulled back in terror.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" yelled one of the utility workers.

"Someone call the police!"

"Call the MSA! It's one of those sewer mutants!"

"You mean Morlocks?"

"Whatever the hell they're called, just get it away from me!"

Santo Vaccarro life was spiraling out of control. Everything was getting worse. Only one thing could help him at this point and he would fight if he had to in order to reach it.

"No…not the MSA," he said as he now stood in the middle of the road, "The X-men…I want the X-men."

* * *

**Academy of Tomorrow – Outside Administrative Hall**

The tour of Emma's Academy had been going smoothly so far. After exploring the campus, Emma led Professor Xavier and his X-men through the various buildings. Overall, there were five. The central building was the main administrative building. The two buildings on the west side were the academic buildings where classes were held. On the east side there was a building specifically for mutant training, which contained hardware similar to the Danger Room at the Xavier Institute. The other building was the main residence hall where the students resided.

Overall, the amenities were pretty good for a private school. It was nearly on par with the Xavier Institute. Emma spared no expense in ensuring her school was top notch. It was a reflection of her personality, matching style with substance while still favoring style. As they neared the end of the tour, Emma led the X-men back to the administrative building. She carried herself with the poise they had come to expect, showing that despite the loss of her daughters she was strong enough to carry out this ambitious endeavor.

"Your academy is remarkable, Emma. I must say I'm impressed," said Professor Xavier as they stood near the doors of the administration building.

"Then I can safely conclude my efforts have been adequate. I would be insulted if you expected anything less than fabulous," said Emma.

"We would be equally insulted if you thought we expected you to be modest," joked Scott.

"You've always found ways to exceed expectations," said Xavier with a humored grin, "The classrooms and training facilities are quite sophisticated after the renovations. I'm sure Beast will be happy to hear that you drew some inspiration from his labs."

"More like a rip-off, but I don't think he'll mind," shrugged Kitty.

"The dormitories were pretty fancy for a school. Your fondness for four-star hotel rooms really shows," added Scott.

"I have a total of 50 students at this Academy so far. Many of these students come from fairly unpleasant backgrounds. Some are former Morlocks. Others are from the rougher parts of District X. They've earned the right to experience a little comfort."

"If only you could say that with less attitude, you might actually sound charitable," teased Betsy.

"Never make light of my charity, darling. We provide all our textbooks electronically, we offer free laptops to every student, and most of the courses are set up online. In terms of education, it's as advanced as any prep school for those with obscene trust funds."

"I find it hard to believe that this boarding school was once on the verge of being condemned by the city," said Ororo

"It just needed the right touch…namely mine," boasted Emma, "Pretty much any building can be made fabulous with the proper application of money. But don't think I just signed a few checks and let everything fix itself. I drew plenty of inspiration from the Xavier Institute. I hope that doesn't make me guilty of trademark infringement."

Professor Xavier smiled proudly at his former student. Emma had certainly come a long way. As a student, she had been torn between the old life she had been forced into and the life she wanted to make for herself. He took pride in how this academy showed that he really had inspired her to rise above the dark world from which she escaped.

"Even if it did, I would happily let it slide," he said to her with a touch of humor, "You've clearly put a great deal of effort into this campus. I have little doubt it will succeed under your guidance. I see you even used those contacts I gave you from Aerie Global for your training facilities."

"My hedge fund may have been profitable, but I was still a ways from affording my own Danger Room," sighed Emma, "Thankfully, those friends of yours gave me a discount. In addition to the lab equipment and computers, they also provided my academy with some advanced mutant research equipment. This way I can figure out what a student needs before I give them a proper educational path."

"You do all that fancy medical work yourself?" said Betsy, "Pardon my skepticism, but you don't strike me as a woman who enjoys wearing a lab coat."

"Or much of anything for that matter," said Kitty under her breath.

"Oh please, Charles here will tell you I slept through most of Beast's science lectures," scoffed Emma, "For that kind of work, I've enlisted a few qualified associates. One of them is a disgraced doctor who lost his medical license for doing some _questionable_ research with his mutant powers."

"Sounds like someone Hank would get along with," commented Ororo.

"I'd be _shocked_ if they weren't Facebook friends. He isn't the only one though. I've recruited a few other eager educators to take part in this new institution. They share the teaching duties and partake in other tasks I'd rather not be bothered with."

"I imagine it was a tough sell convincing them to join you. It's not like the Xavier Institute makes it look like an easy life," said Jean, "Any chance we'll get to meet these brave, hapless souls?"

"Careful Jean, they may hear you. I summoned them telepathically the moment we stopped walking," grinned Emma.

It was an immodest way to move the tour along and put Jean in an awkward position. Emma had a rather abrasive personality to say the least. Even if she had honorable intentions, Emma Frost had her own way of doing things. It was interesting to contemplate the influence that would have on her students.

Within moments of Emma's remark, the front doors to the administration building opened and two figures stepped out. One was a short, well-built Japanese man who looked to be in his early 30s. He wore casual business attire, not unlike what Emma was wearing only far more appropriate for a school. Standing next to him was tall, muscular Native American man who was dressed in similar business attire. But unlike the Japanese man, some on the team recognized.

"Jean, is that…" Scott began.

"It is. Now I _know_ she's trying to annoy me," muttered Jean.

Ignoring the obvious shift in Jean's demeanor, Emma introduced the two men.

"X-men, meet the brave men who help me run this Academy," she said, gesturing towards them, "Shiro Yoshida, or Sunfire as he's known in Japan, is a man of many talents. One of them involves being able to switch sides when Sebastian Shaw attacked his conscious as well as his talents. And since anyone who thumbs his nose at Shaw earns bonus points by default, he became a trusted partner at my hedge fund."

"I would not call an attack of conscious a talent, Miss Frost. I considered helping you the lesser of two evils," said Shiro as he shook the hands of Scott and the Professor.

"I'm sure you sleep much easier at night," said Emma dryly, "And I don't think I need to say much about my other associate, Mr. James Proudstar. Or Warpath as he fancies himself. I'm sure there are others who have the time to fill in his exceedingly complicated (and somewhat pathetic) story."

"I thought the Academy scorned laziness, Frost," said James.

"Only in trivial matters, though I know they're not trivial to everyone," she retorted.

There was a noticeable rise in tension. James Proudstar didn't look nearly as friendly as Shiro. He also got quite a reaction from Scott and Jean. Since the name Proudstar had been heard before, it prompted some obvious questions.

"Proudstar?" said Ororo, "Is he related to…"

"Yes, Miss Munroe. He's related to my ex-boyfriend, John," said Jean flatly, "He's the oldest and not-so-wisest brother of the Proudstar family. He's not too different from John aside from being ill-mannered, arrogant, and pathologically pig-headed."

"I see my little brother convinced you which one of us mom liked best," said James dryly.

"He didn't have to. You got caught up in a number of mutant-related messes the X-men had to clean up, none of which would have been necessary if you thought for more than a nanosecond at a time," said Scott with an equally critical tone.

"I still remember one mess in particular that involved you recruiting Morlocks for some mutant reservation in San Francisco," said Jean bitterly, "You would think trusting a guy named Dr. Demonicus would have made it _painfully _obvious that it was a disaster waiting to happen."

"If you're going to bust my balls as much as John, let me know so I can tell you to fuck off. It'll save us both some time," retorted James.

Their tones were getting overly hostile so Professor Xavier intervened.

"That's enough!" he said, stopping Scott and Jean from making another remark, "Let's not bring up past misgivings. I'm willing to assume that James's presence at this Academy indicates he's turned a corner since our last encounter."

"A hell of a lot happens in that time. It's been what? Three years?" James pointed out.

"More like three-and-a-half," Jean clarified.

"Even so, a lot can happen in that time. Even John will tell you I've been staying busy for the right reasons lately. I know I've got a ways to go before you stop giving me that nasty look of yours, but since you're giving Frost a chance I think I deserve one too…even if I don't have her _assets_ at my disposal."

His remarks earned him a scold from Emma while Scott and Jean exchanged looks with the Professor. James did have a troubled history with the X-men and unlike Emma, he hadn't done a whole lot to make up for it. But if Emma was giving him a chance, that meant he had to have made _some_ progress.

For Ororo, Kitty, and Betsy it was a curious sight. They knew about John Proudstar, but everybody seemed pretty mute when it came to his older brother. If Scott and Jean's demeanor were any indication, there was definitely a story to tell.

"Well he sure seems like a miserable bloke," commented Betsy, "I hate to think what the students have to go through."

"Let's try not to be too judgmental, Betsy. I don't recall the Professor saying much about James," said Ororo, "I'm certain there are reasons for that."

"I hate to think what kind of _reasons_ we're dealing with here," said Kitty, "Scott and Jean are some of the most forgiving people I know. For them to give anyone that kind of attitude, he had to have screwed up on a _massive_ scale."

It was interesting to contemplate. James sure didn't seem too happy about his history either and wasn't inclined to reveal much. The Academy of Tomorrow was supposed to be about the future. That didn't mean the past was easy to forget though.

Despite the uncertainties surrounding James Proudstar, Emma Frost maintained her poise. This was who she had chosen to work with. She couldn't run this school on her own. She needed help from other mutants who shared her vision. It seemed rather fitting that someone else who had screwed over the X-men would seek redemption here.

"Are you done berating my choice of associates? Given your history with Mr. Proudstar, I expected it to take much longer," said Emma wryly.

"You've already got your share of laughs, Emma. I'm willing to move on if you're willing to wipe that condescending grin off your face," said Jean in an annoyed tone.

"Yes, we should move forward. There is still much we have to discuss," said Xavier in a more reasonable tone, "You've yet to introduce us to your students and I would very much like to meet them."

"I suppose I've kept them waiting long enough," sighed Emma, "They've been clamoring to meet the X-men all day. Don't be surprised if they give you the celebrity treatment."

"Compared to the treatment we usually get, we'll take it," said Scott.

"I'm sure your egos will be very appreciative," quipped the blond telepath, "I would like to lead you back towards the residence halls, but I was hoping to introduce my science advisor. He was supposed to be here by now."

"Last I checked, Dr. Nemesis was busy with something in his lab. He said he would catch up in a ten minutes," said Shiro, "That was 45 minutes ago."

"That's late even for him," said Emma, "He better have a damn good excuse."

She didn't have to wait long for that excuse. Before Emma could lead them back to the residence halls, a figure came running towards them from across the campus. He didn't look like a science advisor though. He was a neatly dressed man in a white suit and hat who appeared to be in his early to mid-forties. If the way he was running was any indication, something was very wrong.

"Miss Frost! I'm sorry to interrupt your tour, but we have a bit of a situation," he said.

"Always a flare for the dramatics," groaned Emma, "What is it, Bradley? You better not try to convince me to buy that particle accelerator you've been drooling over."

"This is more serious, I'm afraid. We've a rather distressing problem unfolding as we speak."

"How distressing? And for once, spare me the ten syllable words in describing it."

"I've been monitoring a mutant anomaly that emerged in South Boston last night. If you would rather skip over the details, here's the cliff notes…a powerful mutant who seems _very upset_ is tearing through the city and heading straight towards this academy."

Emma's expression hardened. For once, Dr. Nemesis wasn't exaggerating. The paint on the walls of her academy was still drying and already they were facing a daunting threat. Even if they didn't call themselves the X-men, they still attracted the same kind of danger.

"Well there goes any promise of an incident-free tour," sighed Emma.

"Don't feel too bad about it. We're used to things going wrong," said Kitty.

"You should probably get back to your students, Emma," said the Professor, "My X-men will take care of this threat before it reaches your school. You have my word."

It was a generous and unsurprising offer. This should be an easy decision for Emma. The well-being of her students came first. At the same time, they had a lot to learn and weren't going to do so by huddling in a corner until the danger had passed.

Rather than go with the easy way out, Emma came up with a new idea that would demonstrate just how far she came with her Academy. Shiro and James Proudstar could already tell what she was thinking and they didn't exactly share her enthusiasm.

"I know that look. Please don't tell me you're thinking what I think you're thinking," said Shiro.

"Why not? Isn't it prudent to turn all potential obstacles into opportunities?" she retorted.

"What are you talking about?" asked Jean warily, "I don't think this is the time for showboating Emma."

"That's never stopped her before," muttered James Proudstar.

"Just humor me, X-men," said Emma with an ominous grin, "I have an idea that will both remedy this precarious situation and demonstrated how much progress I've made with my students."

"I'm hesitant to ask, but how do you plan on doing that?" asked Professor Xavier.

"As if that look on your face has ever led to anything subtle," muttered Scott.

"I'm sure you would know, luv," teased Betsy.

Emma's grin widened while James, Shiro, and Dr. Nemesis already figured out the plan. This was going to be a moment to shine for the Academy of Tomorrow. She would make sure the X-men and the rest of the world knew it.

"Don't bother putting on your uniforms, X-men," said Emma assertively, "Follow me to the dormitories. I'll explain on the way."

* * *

**Academy of Tomorrow – Recreation Room**

"Damn it, Sam! Quit cheating and fight fair already," complained an annoyed Julian Keller.

"For the last time, Ah ain't cheating. It's called skill, Julian. There's a difference," said Sam Guthrie in a boastful tone.

"Don't bother explaining it to him, amigo. In Julian's world, anybody that beats him at Guitar Hero is cheating by default," said Roberto DaCosta, who was lounging lazily on the couch.

"Yeah, spare us all your competitive bravado. My ears are still ringing from our ill-fated Wii Bowling tournament," said Noriko Ashida.

"Ah to hell with all you guys! I'm sticking with Mario Kart," pouted Julian.

The teenage mutant threw his hands up and tossed aside the game controller. What started as a simple competition in Guitar Hero turned into test of will between Julian and Sam. When classes and training weren't in session, they entertained themselves in the well-stocked recreation room in the residence hall. It had everything a group of teenagers could want. There were several big screen TVs, a couple of gaming systems, a few air hockey and foosball tables, and a few rows of comfortable couches. Yet this seemed lost for some of the students of the Academy of Tomorrow. Everything had to be a competition or a struggle.

This mindset was shared by a number of Emma Frost's prized students shared at the Academy. Some shared it more than others. Julian Keller was one of the most vocal. His competitive spirit was emblematic of what set them apart. Sam Guthrie, Roberto DaCosta, and Noriko Ashida shared it as well, although they were less _vocal_ about it.

A few others that were somewhat new to this mentality. This included two teenage girls, Tabitha Smith and Danielle Moonstar. Also known as Boomer and Mirage, they kept their distance from the competition. They sat comfortably at a table across the room where Tabitha was painting her nails and Danielle was trying to read a book. It was hard for Danielle to focus and she couldn't help notice the hostility a mere video game competition could evoke.

"All this over a game of Guitar Hero?" mused Danielle.

"Don't tell me you're surprised, Dani. Boys and their video games are like the third major cause of teenage buffoonery, after pretty girls and football games," said Tabitha, not sounding too concerned as she admired her nails.

"That wouldn't bother me if these boys weren't supposed to be part of this new _team_ Miss Frost is putting together. The way she, Warpath, and Sunfire are training us, I feel as though they're preparing us for something."

"You're not _scared_ are you?" teased Tabitha, "You're supposed to be Warpath's prized student since he got you out of that little _misunderstanding_ Mexico."

"I'm not scared. And that _misunderstanding_ you're talking about involved me using my powers to help drug cartels," said Danielle defensively, "Warpath got me out when nobody in my family was going to bother. He and Miss Frost helped you too."

"All they did was convince my deadbeat father to sign a few papers before he got hauled off to prison for the third and probably last time. It's not like they saved me from being sold into slavery," shrugged Tabitha as if it wasn't a big deal.

"That still makes us very lucky and for whatever reason, Warpath and Miss Frost are giving us special attention. They already had Julian, Sam, Roberto, and Noriko tag along on that mission with the Cuckoos. I think it's only a matter of time before we tag along for something bigger."

"And that _worries_ you?"

"What worries me is that we're still fighting over video games. If this is what our training has led us to, then we may not be as ready as we think we are."

Danielle's concerns seemed valid on some levels. Julian was still giving Sam that cold glare while he and Noriko began another round. It didn't seem to bother Tabitha as much as it should have.

Tabitha had never been one to worry about things she didn't have any control over. Danielle only knew the basic version of what her father put her through. He was the kind of low-life that gave everyone from west Texas a bad name. It was only a matter of time before he qualified for one of those three-strike laws that sent him to prison. Lucky for her, she made it an issue _not_ to grow close to her father. She pretty much raised herself. That was why she had so much more confidence than a typical 17-year-old. It's what allowed her to fit in with this new crowd at the Academy of Tomorrow. She thought Danielle would fill that role too. Perhaps being a pawn for Mexican drug cartels didn't harden her enough.

"I still don't see how you can be so casual about these things," made Danielle, "Don't you _want_ to be part of Miss Frost's special club here?"

"Of course I want it. If I didn't, I would be skipping classes like I used to back in west Texas public schools," said Tabitha, having put the finishing touches on her nails.

"Then how do you manage?" she asked, sounding almost desperate, "Maybe it's because you're a year older than me, but seriously, Tabby. What's your secret?"

Tabitha rolled her eyes. Getting all this extra training made her pretty uptight, even for a teenage mutant who could make illusions and form solid objects from them. Compared to her power, which consisted only of forming plasma bombs in her hands, she should have been the confident one.

The older teen waited before answering her friend. As she looked up from her nails, her gaze drifted towards the three Stepford Cuckoos sitting in front of another TV. They weren't doing much. They were watching old reruns of Lost, which was fitting because that was how they looked since losing their sisters. They were messed up enough by having a hive mind and being the daughters of Emma Frost, but they continued to function. That helped make her point.

"Check out Emma's mini-me's over there. Look at how they're handling themselves," Tabitha pointed out, "They're sitting on a couch, watching TV, and looking as normal as any blond triplet/clones could possibly look."

"What's your point, Tabitha? They're not doing anything," said Danielle.

"That's _exactly_ my point," she said strongly, "Those girls just lost two sisters. By all accounts they should be in _intensive_ therapy, crippled with the angst that turns most teenagers into emo psychopaths. But they're not. They're holding it together. Hell, they're probably aware of what I'm thinking right now. Since I'm not having a crippling seizure, I think that says a lot."

Danielle looked over towards the three young teens. There was no question they had been through a lot. Mindee, Phoebee, and Celeste just recently buried their two sisters. Being a hive mind, it was like burying a part of themselves. However, they weren't overwhelmed with sorrow. They remained strong and ready for the next challenge.

"I'm not trying to give you the whole you-don't-have-it-as-bad-as-you-think speech. I always hated it when my asshole father told me that," said Tabitha, "My point is that we're all pretty messed up in our own special way. Ours just happen to be special enough to qualify us for Miss Frost's team."

"I'm trying to see your point, but I'm not sure I get the full story here," said Danielle, still fixated on the Cuckoos.

"I'm getting a C-minus in English. Cut me some slack," she shrugged, "My point is we're messed up and somehow we haven't subscribed to Magneto's philosophy of go-batshit-and-kill-all-humans. We also haven't run away from Warpath and Sunfire's training regimen like the others so Miss Frost must see something in us."

"So we should trust her judgment in us and take a chance?"

"See? Now _that's_ why I copy your notes in algebra class. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, Dani. If I'm that far behind and can still give this X-Factor deal a shot, then so can you."

Tabitha had an interesting way of making a point, but Danielle got the message. They were all taking plenty of chances by being part of this. She seemed to be the only one with doubts. However, she wanted this too. Their options as mutants were limited in this world. They had to make the most of whatever opportunities came their way.

Danielle settled down along with Tabitha while the Sam, Noriko, Julian, and Roberto continued their video game war. They were ready to relax again when the doors to the rec room burst opened and Emma Frost stormed in with Warpath and Sunfire.

"Uh…are we in trouble?" wondered Sam.

"Put the video games down, children. Time for some more _mature_ activities," said Emma Frost firmly.

"These activities wouldn't involve another pop-quiz coupled with a training session, would it?" groaned Julian.

"Not this time, my little Hellion," she replied coyly, "I need you all to suit up in the new uniforms I so generously paid for. X-Factor has its first mission."

"A mission?" Danielle repeated nervously.

"As in one that involves more than just sitting in a van and playing defense?" said Noriko.

"If stopping a rampaging mutant that happens to be heading towards our school qualifies as _more_, then I would certainly say so."

Nobody could question Miss Frost's standards. The young students of the Academy of Tomorrow exchanged glances. This was the real deal. For the first time, they were going on a mission and it happened to involve protecting their school.

"What kind of rampaging mutant are we talking about here?" asked Roberto.

"Is it Juggernaut or something? Because I think that may be a bit too advanced for us," said Sam.

"Do you really think we are that _cruel_, Samuel?" said Warpath, "We wouldn't send you out on a dangerous mission if we weren't certain you could handle it."

"This is just the kind of mission you've been training for," added Sunfire, "We've added some extra motivation as well. Professor Charles Xavier and his X-men are here to watch you in action."

"Dude! We get to kick ass in front of the X-men?" exclaimed Tabitha with newfound excitement.

"More than two of them this time this time?" asked Julian with more enthusiasm as well.

"I could go over the finer details, but by the time I'm done that rampaging mutant I mentioned would be tearing down our gates," said Emma, "Now hurry up and get changed!"

"Even us, Miss Frost?" asked Mindee, Phoebee, and Celeste in unison.

"Especially you, my girls," she said strongly, "Consider this your first exam. There will be no middle grades here. It's either pass or fail. We've much at stake and a grand stage to showcase our talents. For that reason, we must be nothing short of _astonishing_."

* * *

**Downtown Boston**

"OUT OF MY WAY! I NEED TO GET TO THE X-MEN!"

The desperate voice of Santo Vaccarro brought terror to the streets of Boston. It was late in the day and rush hour traffic had already clogged the streets. This was the worst possible time for a rampage. Santo, his rocky body having grown to twice its original size, was pushing over cars and crushing everything in his path. This led to dozens of Bostonians rushing out of their cars and running for their lives.

"Run for cover! We've got a raging mutie on our hands!" yelled one civilian.

"The MSA better get their ass down here! This looks like a freak that needs to be _put down_," said another.

The dazed mutant moved faster, caring little about the terrified screams he evoked. His mind was too narrow and focused. His sole focus was finding the X-men. They could help him. They had to.

'_I know they're close. That article in the paper the other day…something about the X-men having another school in Boston. I must get to it! I won't go running into the sewers or get hauled off by the MSA. I may be a freak, that's NOT going to be my life.'_

Santo kept storming along, pushing aside empty cars and stepping over terrified civilians along the way. He was heading east. That's where this school he read about was supposed to be. Even if he did and these powers were making him crazy, he was still going to try. Nothing could stand in his way.

He was nearing another busy intersection. The traffic had come to a standstill as people ahead who had seen him coming tried to get out of the way. In addition, there were a couple of police cruisers parked along the curb. They did not look like they were from the MSA. They were regular Boston PD. When they saw him pushing over cars, they rushed up to the curb and drew their guns.

"_Attention mutant. This is the Boston PD_," one of them said over a loudspeaker, _"Stop right where you are and put your hands up!"_

"Not gonna happen. Now back the fuck off!" yelled Santo.

"_The MSA is already on their way. You'll be making it a lot easier on yourself if you calm down and work with us."_

"NO! NO MSA! I WON'T LET THEM TAKE ME!"

Fueled by irrational rage, Santo grabbed a nearby compact car and threw it at the police cruiser. The two officers had to duck out of the way to avoid the oncoming car. They didn't get hurt, but now they had an idea for what they were up against.

"Damn! How much longer until the MSA get here?" groaned the officer that had been using the loudspeaker.

"The chief told me they're ETA is still twenty minutes _at least_," said his partner.

"By then he could be halfway across the city!"

"You want to be a hero, be my guest. I don't think even SWAT's weapons will do much good against that rocky skin of his."

The police were as helpless as the terrified civilians. The two officers didn't bother wasting bullets. They could only make things worse by pissing this mutant off. Until the MSA arrived, they were helpless. All they could do was protect the civilians and hope someone came along to put a stop to this mess.

Santo moved with more urgency now, tearing through the streets of Downtown Boston in his desperate bid to find the X-men. He was so focused he didn't even realize that the X-men had already found him. Professor Charles Xavier along with Cyclops, Phoenix, Psylocke, Shadowcat, and Storm arrived moments ago via the X-jet. Emma Frost, James Proudstar, and Shiro Yoshida were with them. They were still processing the situation. Whenever a mutant went crazy in the middle of a busy city, it did not bode well for them or mutants in general.

"We should be down there putting a stop to this," said Shadowcat strongly, "This is no place to test drive your team of amateurs, Frost."

"You act as though that's Juggernaut down there," scoffed Emma, "What would you rather have? A mini-sentinel that shoots green jello?"

"You _are_ playing a dangerous game, Emma. If this mission goes bad, it won't look good for your school or _anyone_ for that matter," said Cyclops in a serious yet calm tone.

"And I don't think the MSA will be very understanding," added Professor Xavier, "I would rather not explain to them why we stood by and allowed this scene to unfold. Our partnership is already tenuous after that incident in Colorado."

"Sorry if you have to be inconvenienced, Professor. But you of all people should know that some skills can only be learned by experienced," said Warpath, "You're students were inexperienced teenagers once. Some of them still are."

"Hey! I may be a teenager, but I'm plenty experienced," said Shadowcat, noticing how the Native American mutant gazed at her in particular.

Sunfire grabbed Warpath by the shoulder and pulled him back. His history with the X-men was not doing him any favors. They got Professor Xavier and the X-men to give them a chance. They didn't need to give them reasons to regret it.

"What Warpath _means_ to say is that we've trained our students well," said Sunfire, shooting his associate a stern gaze.

"Indeed we have," said Emma, "Now it's time they earn their place."

"Not to question your teaching style, but we're going to stay on standby anyways," said Phoenix apprehensively.

"Yes, we should be ready to assist if this goes badly," said Storm, watching anxiously at the distraught mutant down below.

"Prepare all you want. I'm confident my students won't need it," said Emma with a grin, "I've already signaled X-Factor to get in position. They have their objective. Give them a chance to execute it."

"X-Factor? That's the best name you could come up with?" said Psylocke dryly.

"If the name of my team bothers you, then why don't you wait in the _X-jet_ and come up with another _X-name_ that that the _X-men_ find acceptable," said Emma coarsely, "Otherwise, stand back and watch my students work."

Emma was pretty confident, but it was hard for the X-men to share that confidence. This was a task they had been handling for years. They knew all too well how it could go wrong. The idea of delegating those duties to a group of young mutants did not sit well. Despite these reservations, they gave X-Factor a chance to follow the lofty example they worked so hard to set.

On the streets below, Santo was now standing in the middle of the intersection. The police were on the run and the civilians were clearing out, leaving a relatively clear path ahead and dozens of cars still in his way. With each step he took, his confusion grew. It was still like being in a nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. He struggled just keeping his mind together.

'_Can't…lose…focus! The X-men…they'll make me…better.'_

Through his daze, he saw some strange figures emerge in the distance. They were making their way towards him from down the street. The civilians and police didn't seem to notice them. They weren't dressed like cops or MSA officers either. They were wearing these strange blue and white uniforms with masks covering parts of their faces.

"Am I going crazy already?" wondered Santo as he stopped for a moment, "Is it them? Have the X-men come to save me?"

He was not in a clear state of mind and X-Factor sensed that. They weren't the X-men, but this guy would have to make due. This was X-Factor's mission. Armed with their new uniforms and masks that were reflective of the X-men's old vigilante style, they prepared to face off against this confused mutant.

The team was led by Sam Guthrie, now going by the codename Cannonball. Behind him were Julian "Hellion" Keller, Noriko "Surge" Ashida, Roberto "Sunspot" DaCosta, Tabitha "Boomer" Smith, and Danielle "Mirage" Moonstar. The Stepford Cuckoos were also among them, but in a supporting role. They were part of a bold plan that Miss Frost, Warpath, and Sunfire laid out for them.

"Okay X-Factor, time to break in these new uniforms," said Cannonball.

"Explain to me again why we're wearing masks?" asked Roberto, "Didn't this already go out of style with the X-men?"

"We're not the X-men. We're the new kids on the block," said Surge, "Besides, I like the masks."

"We can talk fashion later," said Cannonball, "Right now, the Cuckoos are using their telepathy to scan this fella's mind. That should give us an idea of what we're up against."

As they reached the intersection, Santo's confusion grew. These new figures were dressed like the X-men, but they sure didn't look the part. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him or this was some elaborate trap by the MSA. A lot of disturbing possibilities coursed through his mind.

'_It's not them! No wait…isn't he that Shadowcat? Or is it Rogue? Augh! Why can't I see straight?'_

These musings did not go unnoticed. The Cuckoos made their presence felt with the rest of X-Factor through their telepathy. Their minds linked up with the team, sending messages that all six of them could hear.

'_It's worse than we thought, Cannonball. This poor guy's name is Santo Vaccarro. He was walking out from a gas station late at night and was hit by a truck. During the impact his mutation manifested, which seems to involve forming a rocky shell around his body.'_

"We have eyes. We don't need telepathy to figure _that_ out," said Hellion as they all stopped near the intersection.

'_You'll probably need it more than your eyes to combat Mr. Vaccarro's unstable mind. His psyche is in a state of chaos. The sudden manifestation of his powers has left him confused and unbalanced. For whatever reason, he thinks that finding the X-men will help him.'_

"Sucks for him because he's stuck with us," said Boomer.

"Let's not make that a bad thing and get this over with quickly," said Cannonball, "We'll need to coordinate so the Cuckoos can work on stabilizing that mind of his. We also gotta keep the civilians outta the way."

"Easier done than said, Cannonball. I've been casting illusions since we got out of the X-jet. I've made sure the police and civilians don't notice us," said Mirage, her eyes glowing to indicate that she was using her powers, "I've also made sure they notice all the necessary escape routes."

"That should give us plenty of room to put on our own little show," grinned Roberto, already powered up with solar energy.

X-Factor stood poised to make their first move. But by now Santo Vaccarro's troubled mind had processed the figures before him. It took him a moment to understand what he was looking at. When he did, his confusion turned to rage.

"NO! YOU'RE NOT THE X-MEN!" he yelled.

Without much thought, Santo grabbed another car and threw it right at X-Factor. This time he didn't throw a compact car. Instead, he threw a heavy pick-up truck loaded with cinderblocks. It was an unexpected show of strength that caught the team off guard.

"Incoming!" yelled Hellion.

"Ah got it," said Cannonball.

Boomer, Mirage, Sunspot, and Surge got out of the way while Hellion and Cannonball deflected the incoming truck. It came so fast Hellion barely had time to slow it down with his telekinesis so his teammates could escape. Once it was steadied, Cannonball finished it off by going into blast mode and striking the truck at full speed to knock it back into the intersection.

"Whoa…guy's a bigger X-men fan than I thought," said Sunspot.

"Just be glad he's not an angry Star Trek fan," said Boomer, already forming some bombs in her hands.

"Since he threw the first punch, does that mean we'll skip the whole we're-trying-to-help speech?" wondered Surge as she dusted herself off.

"If he won't calm down, we'll have to do it for him," said Cannonball, "You know what _that_ means."

"The guy threw a damn truck at me. He's _earned_ it," grunted Hellion.

X-Factor began their attack, not bothering with efforts to coax him out of his enraged state. They left that for the Cuckoos to settle his chaotic mind. That meant their job was to wear this Santo Vaccarro down and prevent him from doing any further damage.

Their attack began with a barrage of firepower. Hellion and Boomer met up and hurled waves of telekinesis and charged plasma bombs at Santo. Boomer set her bombs to go off as soon as they hit the rocky figure. This along with Hellion's telekinesis caught him off guard and off balance. He stumbled and fell flat on his bac, but the force of the blasts did little damage to his rocky form.

"Now I _know_ you're not the X-men. They would never attack an innocent mutant!" grunted Santo as he pulled himself up.

"You're throwing a tantrum in the middle of a crowded city. Your definition for innocence is _very_ skewed, amigo," said Sunspot.

Before Santo could fully get up, Sunspot slugged him with a punishing right cross. The solar energy he collected allowed him to hit much harder than any normal human while preventing his hand from being shattered by his rocky skin. Even so, he felt like punching a slab of granite.

"Damn! That skin is harder than I thought," he said, rubbing his hand.

"Allow me to assist," said Surge.

"Uh…don't know if you slept through physics, Surge, but rock isn't known for conducting electricity," said Danielle, who was right behind her.

"Who says I was aiming for him?" she responded cryptically.

Clenching her fists, Surge formed a halo of powerful sparks around her body. She then concentrated them into a bright ball of energy and unleashed it with blinding force, but she didn't shoot it at Santo. Instead, she aimed for the traffic light hanging above him. When the lightning struck it, a burst of blinding sparks showered down upon the unstable mutant. He had to cover his eyes and stumble back. It was quite a display of power, barely missing Sunspot in the process.

"Ow! Watch your aim, Surge," said the Brazilian mutant, feeling a bit of a sting from a stray spark.

"Thought you were supposed to be strong when you're all _fired up_," teased Surge, "Cannonball, finish this off so we can make fun of Sunspot for the rest of the day."

"Already on it!" shouted Cannonball from above.

Still in blast mode, Cannonball soared over the streets of downtown Boston. He built up plenty of energy and speed, preparing to deliver a blow that would hopefully put a stop to Santo's rampage.

Once in position, he swirled around and swooped down from the other end of the street in a powerful arc. He was going so fast by the time he reached the surface that a few cars were knocked aside by the blast wave. His sights were set squarely on Santo. He was still rubbing his eyes from Surges blinding attack. When his vision finally cleared, he saw Cannonball flying right at him. He had only a split second to brace himself.

"Son-of-a…"

That was all he got out before the crushing impact silenced him and unleashed a shockwave that blew out a few nearby windows in the process. Santo, despite his heavy rocky form, was knocked back. He landed with such a hard thud that it left a large indentation in the pavement. With a hit like that, it seemed unlikely that Santo would be in any condition to fight.

"I think that qualifies as a knockout blow," said Boomer.

"Nice hit, Cannonball! You're _way_ better at this than you are at Guitar Hero," said Hellion.

"Just don't say Ah cheated this time," said Cannonball as he landed next to his teammates, "Now let's go make sure he's out."

"He better be," said Sunspot, "If the Cuckoos couldn't knock him out telepathically, then this is our best bet."

The team gathered around the middle of the intersection. Cannonball, Hellion, Surge, Boomer, Sunspot, and Mirage each stood around the perimeter of the indent and looked over the unmoving form of Santo Vaccarro. He appeared to be out cold. His eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. Cannonball's attack seemed to do the trick.

"He looks out cold to me," said Surge.

"That mean we can go get our shallow approval from Miss Frost?" said Boomer, "Or might she actually give a little praise this time?"

"Ah don't know if praise is what we should hope for," said Cannonball as he took a closer look, "Knowing Miss Frost, we'll probably have to…"

Suddenly, Cannonball was silenced by an unexpected attack. Santo's arm shot up and grabbed him by the neck in a rocky grasp as the rocky figure's eyes shot open.

"Think that hurt?" he seethed, "I'll show you _real _hurt!"

With newfound anger, Santo Vaccorro shot up and threw Cannonball like a baseball right at his teammates. Every member of X-Factor was momentarily shocked. As soon as Santo released Cannonball from his grip, he instinctively started blasting and he flew right into Surge and Boomer. This sent them tumbling to the hard pavement, messing up their new uniforms and leaving plenty of bruises in the process. Now burning with rage, Santo prepared to take his new frustrations out on the rest of them.

"Cannonball!" exclaimed Hellion.

"Guess he needs another…" began Sunspot.

"NOT THIS TIME!" roared the rocky figure.

Before Sunspot could launch another attack, Santo struck the fiery mutant with a devastating uppercut. Even in his solar powered form, the impact was devastating. Sunspot was sent flying back towards Cannonball, Boomer, and Surge. His flames also faded in the process, having lost his focus and his poise.

Now Santo set his sights on Hellion and Mirage. The rock around his body actually shifted, becoming more jagged to reflect his heightened rage. He clenched his fists, looking ready to tear into anything and anyone in front of him.

"Get behind me, Mirage! I got this," said Hellion confidently.

"OH REALLY? I'VE GOT SOMETHING BETTER!" yelled Santo.

Through seething anger, he grabbed a chunk of the pavement that was about the size of a small car and slammed it down against Hellion. The young mutant instinctively put up a telekinetic bubble, but the impact was a lot stronger than he expected. His barrier quickly crumbled and he fell to his knees at the sudden strain on his mind.

"Ungh!" he grunted, blood now coming down his nose, "That…hurt."

"So will _this_!" yelled Santo.

He still had a chunk of the pavement in his right hand. With it, he formed a fist. In the process, some of the rock was absorbed into his skin. It created a thicker and stronger shell around his hand. Gritting his teeth intently, he hit what was left of Hellion's telekinetic barrier. This time it shattered completely and the resulting force knocked the young mutant flat on his back.

Now only Mirage stood in Santo's way. She stared down an angry Santo Vaccarro, who wasn't even yelling for the X-men anymore. Now he was utterly consumed by irrational anger and confusion. With her teammates down for the count, it was up to her now.

"Is it too late to ask that we talk about this?" asked Mirage as she slowly backed away from the approaching figure.

"I swear…I'll crush you!" yelled Santo.

"Just checking," she said warily, "Earlier you sounded like a confused young man looking for help. Is that man still in there?"

"I'LL CRUSH ALL OF YOU!" he yelled again.

"I see," she grumbled, "Guess I'll have to see for myself if that man is truly lost."

Mirage stopped backing away and prepared to face the approaching Santo. She seemed horribly overmatched. This was not lost on Cannonball, Sunspot, Surge, and Boomer. They had just started gathering themselves from the blows they took earlier and emerged just in time to watch this scene unfold before them.

"Mirage…we have to help her," said a sore and dazed Surge.

"Wait!" said Cannonball, forcibly holding her back, "Ah've seen this strategy from Mirage before. Let's see how it plays out."

"What strategy are you talking about?" asked Boomer warily.

"Remember that time she played that trick on Dr. Nemesis?" Cannonball reminded them.

"You'll have to be more specific," she quipped.

"The one that earned us all a pop quiz and a three a.m. training session."

Surge, Boomer, and Sunspot quickly surmised what Cannonball was referring to. It was a pretty brazen move. But since their initial attack had failed miserably, they needed a new tactic and Mirage was in a perfect position to pull it off.

Santo didn't look like he was going to calm down. Now standing within a few feet of Mirage, he was prepared to strike her. Hellion was still dazed so there would be no telekinetic protection this time.

"You're not going to do it, Santo. I don't believe you're that cruel," she said in a calm tone.

"Get out…of my way!" he seethed.

"You're _not_ a monster. Come on, Santo. Don't prove me wrong," said Mirage strongly.

"SHUT UP!"

Not heeding Mirage's pleas, Santo clenched the same fist he used to strike Hellion and slammed it right down onto the young woman before him. This time there was no telekinesis blocking him. This time he struck regular bone and flesh. As a result, Mirage didn't stand a chance. He felt her body crumble under his strength. It was a sickening feeling, blood and torn covering his rocky skin. Even though the rock, he felt it. When he rose his fist, all that was left was a mangled body with a vacant gaze etched in her face.

It took a moment for Santo Vaccarro to process what he just did. In seeing the look on her face, his anger was quickly replaced with sheer horror. Within seconds, his rage gave way to shock. He looked at his bloodied hand and then at the body before him. He had really done it. He just killed a girl with his bare hands.

"Oh God…what have I done?" he gasped.

A sickening feeling set in as Santo fell to his knees and looked over the mangled body before him. There was so much blood and so many broken bones that it was hard to even make out a human shape. There was just a mangled collection of wounded flesh. It was the most horrific sight Santo Vaccarro had ever seen and it was all done with his hands.

"No!" he cried out, "I…I didn't mean to…I couldn't!"

It was a ghastly scene as Santo held the remnants of the body in his arms. He was so horrified that he didn't notice that X-Factor was remarkably calm despite what he just did. The sight was still pretty gruesome, but they were not showing any concern and for good reason.

"How much longer? I'm getting queasy here," groaned Sunspot.

"Wait for it…" said Cannonball.

Santo continued to lament. He kept shaking his head in remorse. It was all too much for him. He could not take this.

"She was right…I _am_ a monster," he cried.

'_No Mr. Vaccarro. You are not.'_

Santo gasped at the sound of three mysterious voices in his head. Still reeling from what he just did, it felt as though he was truly losing his mind.

"WHO'S THERE? WHAT DO YOU WANT? STOP TORMENTING ME!"

'_We're not tormenting you, Santo. We're trying to reassure you. In your sorrow your mind has finally opened to us. Now we can help you.'_

"NO! I DON'T DESERVE HELP ANYMORE! I KILLED SOMEONE!"

'_Did you? Look behind you.'_

He did as the voices asked. To his shock, the same girl he thought he murdered in cold blood earlier was standing right before him. She was helping up Hellion, looking as healthy and alive as ever. He quickly looked down at his hands to discover they were no longer stained with blood. His supposed victim even looked towards him and waved. It left Santo confused yet very relieved.

"What? But how…"

'_An illusion, that's all. It was the only way to get you out of your maddened state of mind. We apologize that we had to resort to such measures, but it was necessary. Now that your mind is coherent once more, you can begin accepting what you are. You are a mutant, not a monster. We at the Academy of Tomorrow will help you realize that.'_

"I'm not a monster," he repeated.

'_Indeed, Santo. Now go ahead and sleep. You've had a long day.'_

"Hnn…"

The young mutant's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out into a deep sleep. It came courtesy of the Stepford Cuckoos, who had finally emerged from the other side of the intersection. They had been hard at work trying to reach Santo's mind since this battle began. Now that they had finished the job, they rejoined the rest of X-Factor.

Cannonball, Surge, Sunspot, and Boomer met up with Mirage and Hellion. They joined the Cuckoos and stood over the unconscious body of Santo Vaccarro. This time they were sure he was out.

"Is it safe this time? Or is he gonna reach up and grab me again?" asked Cannonball.

"It's safe. We promise," said Mindee, Phoebe, and Celeste in unison.

"So does that mean we did it? Does that mean we succeeded in our first mission?" wondered Surge.

"I'd say so. Thanks to you, Dani," said Sunspot.

"I hope I wasn't too harsh with my illusions," she said.

"After the hits he laid on us? I'd say it was appropriate," said Hellion, his head still clearly throbbing.

"I should still probably apologize once he wakes up."

"Considering the damage he did to Downtown Boston, I think we're just about even," said Surge.

It was a proud moment for X-Factor. They faced a dangerous threat in this confused young man and they succeeded in putting a stop to it in front of their teachers and the X-men. That left Cannonball, Mirage, Sunspot, Surge, Hellion, Boomer, and the Stepford Cuckoos feeling pretty accomplished. Hopefully, it was the first of many such feelings.

While they were standing in triumph over the unconscious body, the X-men assessed the scene from the rooftops above. Emma, Warpath, and Sunfire looked upon their students with pride. It wasn't the cleanest execution for a mission. At times, Professor Xavier and the X-men were tempted to intervene. They reluctantly held back and were relieved to see it all work out.

"Wow…they really did it. They really pulled it off," said a bewildered Shadowcat.

"That illusion from Mirage was a little extreme though," said Phoenix.

"It was still a brilliant strategy," remarked Cyclops, "They used deception to disorient and outsmart someone whose strength they clearly underestimated."

"Doing what we do, there has to be _some_ arrogance in the mix," said Warpath.

"They seem to have a little more than _some_, but I'll say it anyways. They did good," said Psylocke.

"We hope they continue to do better," said Sunfire, "Now that the mutant issue has grown, others besides the X-men must step up."

"In more ways than one," added Emma, "Besides, we can't have you X-men doing _all_ the work. You may not care for X-Factor's help, but you're getting it anyways."

"That's something we can gladly live with," said Storm with a smile.

It was an exciting development. For so long the X-men were the only show in town, bearing the full burden of the human/mutant conflict. Now they had another team following their example.

In many ways X-Factor was a lot like the early incarnations of the X-men. They were a bunch of talented young mutants running around in masks, using their powers to do good in a world that hated and feared them. They were a new generation that took the principles of the X-men and followed them in their own right.

For Charles Xavier, he couldn't have been more proud. It was a bit nerve-racking watching this battle unfold, but he still gave them a chance and X-Factor made good use of it. Seeing them succeed put a smile on his face. It was amazing to think his X-men had inspired others. It was just as rewarding to see Emma Frost work so hard to redeem herself after the mistakes she had made.

"What say you, Charles? Has X-Factor met and exceeded your expectation?" asked Emma boldly.

"Without reservation, I'd definitely say so," said Professor Xavier with a grin, "I'm very proud of you, Emma. You're doing a wonderful thing with these kids."

"Does that mean you'll be willing to call your friends at the MSA and clean this up?"

"There's always a catch. Isn't there, Emma?" teased Phoenix.

"Oh it's no catch. I'll take care of the logistics with General Grimshaw," assured Xavier, "I'm sure he'll be just as intrigued to have another option for wayward mutants, especially ones such as Santo. Although I can't guarantee he won't face penalties."

"No worries there, Charles. My academy has strong policies when it comes to _discipline_," said Emma.

"I'm sure the male students won't mind one bit. Especially with your tastes in _business_ attire," commented Shadowcat.

Emma and the rest of the team turned towards Kitty with a bemused look. She just smiled and shrugged. To her surprise, Emma smiled as well. She was feeling too accomplished to let some casual remark bring her down from this momentous triumph.

"My fashion tastes aside, I hope you X-men accept that you're not the only game in town anymore. Your mission may be evolving, but there is still a place for old fashioned heroics."

"Agreed," said Xavier, "From what I've witnessed today, I'm convinced these promising young mutants are in good hands. I can think of no one more fitting to lead them than you, Emma."

"Aw, you're too sweet, Charles," said Emma with a coy grin, "And don't worry. I won't let you down again. Not this time. Not _ever_."

* * *

**Up next: Bleeding Hearts**


	8. Issue 105: Bleeding Hearts

**Issue #105  
Bleeding Hearts**

* * *

_Professor Charles Xavier and the X-men face many daunting challenges. As the next stage in human evolution, they seek to use their powers to protect a world that hates and fears them. In a welcome triumph, they gained a new ally in the Academy of Tomorrow. This new school for mutants is run by Emma Frost and promises to give the X-men and the young mutants that attend it some much need support._

_At the moment, the most pressing issue for the X-men and mutants as a whole is enforcing the Genosha treaty. When an attack on a prison complex in Colorado Springs freed the zealous Graydon Creed, it put a major strain on the tenuous partnership between the X-men and the Mutant Security Agency. There is still a great deal of mystery surrounding this incident. And given Creed's history, the X-men must prepare for the worst._

_While the affairs with the MSA remain a major priority, there are other issues that have fallen to the wayside. Some are of a personal nature that have little bearing on mutant affairs as a whole. However, a few have the potential to become more serious and threaten to reignite old conflicts at the worst possible time._

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Xavier's Office**

Professor Charles Xavier never aspired to become a political figure in his struggle for human/mutant peace, but understood that it was a necessary and unavoidable part of the struggle. Part of making the world a better place for mutants involved dealing with the various institutions that maintained order and stability throughout the world. He gained a strong appreciation for these institutions when he teamed up with General Nathan Grimshaw and the Mutant Security Agency. While dealing with men like him was tedious, it did have a number of benefits.

These benefits manifested in a major way with Emma Frost's new school for mutants, the Academy of Tomorrow. Unlike the X-men, they didn't have to build a reputation to be taken seriously. A few good words from Professor Charles Xavier sped up the process. The media picked up the story about a new team of mutants and so did officials in Washington. X-Factor's exploits in Boston made headlines and prompted a barrage of questions, many of which Professor Xavier helped answer.

In addition to dealing with the press, Professor Xavier was able to pull a few strings with the government. He and General Grimshaw had their differences, but he was not opposed to having another option for wayward mutants. Emma certainly did not hesitate to thank him many times through a video phone conference once the details were settled.

"_So General Grimshaw came through just as he promised," _said Emma over the line, _"He spared us all a long and tedious trial for Mr. Vaccarro. He even made sure he couldn't get sued by any frivolous lawyers. I might actually take back some of the nasty things I said about the man."_

"The General knows how to get things done. That much you should give him," said Xavier from behind his desk, "I've sent you the paperwork that my lawyer, Amelia Voght, put together. She spent five hours negotiating with a judge in Boston to work out the logistics of this deal."

"_Glad to see she's still the least conniving lawyer on this planet, even if she didn't get my newest student a full reprieve."_

"She didn't try to. Santo caused a great deal of property damage and he must be held accountable for it. But because the law still considers mutation an act of God, they can't charge him too harshly. Since no one was seriously hurt, his punishment will be a year of probation along with a few hundred hours of community service. He'll likely have to help rebuild the streets he damaged. If he does a good job there's an option to reduce that sentence."

"_I doubt he'll be thrilled, but he'll get over it. He's an arrogant teenager like many of my students. He already gave himself the codename Rockslide. He even asked if that could be his new legal name."_

"I'll talk to Amelia, but don't get the boys hopes up," said Xavier in a humored tone.

"_Since when do I deal in false hope? I'm more intrigued by the legal precedent this sets. I suspect your friends in Washington will look to my Academy for dealing with others like him."_

"It is certainly intriguing. The idea of sending these unfortunate mutants to a school rather than throwing them in jail holds a great deal of appeal. I've seen what the papers are saying about you. They're already calling your academy a new generation of X-men."

"_Remind me to send angry letters to their editors. We're X-Factor. We still have to wear masks because some of my students can't afford having their identities blared over a loudspeaker. You've been through that process before, Charles. You know how long a road we have ahead of us."_

"I'm confident you'll be able to handle it," said Xavier, "I still have a few legal documents from the General to send you. Other than that, I think it's safe to say that your Academy has a bright future ahead of it."

"_It's nice to start strong, I suppose. You know I'm never satisfied with a single triumph."_

"I'm sure you'll have many others, Emma. I'll be keeping in touch," he said.

"_As will I, Charles. Whether you like it or not."_

The Professor smiled at his former student. It was nice to have Emma Frost on their side again. Her Academy of Tomorrow had already proved to be a valuable ally and the X-men needed as many as they could get at this point.

The call ended and Professor Xavier let out an accomplished sigh. This was an exciting development amidst other issues concerning Graydon Creed, the MSA, and the Genosha treaty. These were all unresolved issues that the X-men had been unable to dedicate sufficient time and resources to confronting. There was also the matter of Sinister being active again. The capture of Vertigo offered an ominous indication that he was planning something. It was an issue among many that ensured the X-men would stay very busy.

'_There's never time for rest, but there's always time for accomplishment. Another ally in the Academy of Tomorrow holds so much promise. It may end up having to pick up the slack for my institute. The X-men have so much to contend with. It would be nice if we can take care of some of these issues so we can get back to carrying out our most important mission.'_

The logistical aspects of his job were over for now. At last he could get back to some of the more enjoyable tasks, such as teaching. He was scheduled to give a lecture to the team in an hour. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was an educator by trade and he still had students that needed educating.

He started wheeling himself out of his office. Then his cell phone started buzzing on his desk. Xavier turned around, noticing it wasn't in his pocket like he thought. Chalking it up to old age and an overworked mind, he wheeled back to his desk and answered it.

"Hello? This is Xavier," he answered.

For a moment there was only silence on the other line. Then he heard what seemed like angry muttering from a familiar voice.

"Rogue? Rogue, is that you? What's wrong?" said the Professor in a more urgent tone.

"_Professor…it's Kurt."_

* * *

**Genosha – Citadel**

Logan had adjusted nicely to his new role on Genosha since the hacking incident. It was probably the most focused he had been in months. He hadn't stopped drinking, but he hadn't gone on any self-deprecating bender. There was too much work for him to do. He was responsible for being Professor Xavier's eyes and ears on this island and there was always something to report.

Activity on Genosha was as hectic as ever. The economic boom fueled an increasing demand for Genosha's precious goods. Logan took it upon himself to make sure nobody on either side screwed up when it came to satisfying these demands.

After the incident at the military base, he was one of the few on the island who could go back and forth between Genosha's leadership and the military presence on the island. He _convinced_ the military officers to overhaul their network to ensure they don't get hacked again. He also _convinced _Wanda to tighten up their operations with Warlock. This technology was important and he still didn't sense that either side was being as careful as they thought they were.

Logan's presence didn't win him many friends on the island and that was just how Logan wanted it. Since everybody knew he was sniffing around, it made them think twice about doing something that would jeopardize the peace. In nearly every visit he made to the island, he busted a number of punks, mutant and non-mutant, who tried to steal or pirate this technology. Logan made sure they preferred turning themselves in rather than facing his claws. It made life for the military easier and it made Wanda's job easier, but he still didn't expect them to be grateful.

"What's got Wanda's panties up in a bunch this time, Summers? What did I do that was so wrong that she had to pull me from patrol?" said Logan in a gruff tone as he made his way through the Citadel.

"I don't know. Could be any number of things," shrugged Alex Summers, who was tasked with escorting him to the throne room, "She wasn't too thrilled about that mutant with the pink skin you busted yesterday."

"The one trying to stuff his pockets with microchips? Thought that punk got off pretty easy," scoffed Logan.

"He ended up with a broken jaw, two cracked ribs, and a concussion. How is that easy?"

"I've done worse and little Miss Magneto here knows it. You gonna tell me you wouldn't have done the same?"

Alex shook his head and grinned. While Logan rubbed everybody on this island the wrong way, somehow Alex got along with him. It helped they each had a healthy disrespect for his brother, Scott. It also helped that they shared an equal fondness for the direct approach in resolving conflicts.

"Either way, I'm not saying shit this time. Whichever one of her buttons you've pushed, you'll have to figure it out yourself," said Alex.

"And here I was thinking you ain't the same asshole as your brother," said Logan dryly.

"I smuggled in a case of imported beer from Ireland earlier today. Consider that as my pre-determined apology," retorted the younger Summers brother.

"Depending on how pissed off your boss is, you better have a second case on standby."

Alex rolled his eyes and led the former living weapon to the main doors to the throne room. They didn't hear any shouting or hexing on the other side, which was a good sign by any standard. Logan didn't bother bracing himself and barged right in ahead of Alex.

"Okay Maximoff, how did I piss you off this time?" said Logan, "Make it quick. This place still stinks of your old man."

His entrance drew the attention of Wanda, Pietro, Blob, and another mutant with bronze skin that Logan didn't recognize. They were all anxiously huddled around a table in the corner and the former living weapon's entrance did little to help.

"Does this guy even understand the concept of a simple hello?" said Blob.

"This isn't Texas, Freddy. Not everyone is keen on manners," grumbled Pietro.

"If you're not used to it by now, then you're not trying hard enough," said Wanda as she turned around to confront the feral mutant, "And unfortunately, we need him for this."

"Says you," scoffed the speedster.

Wanda ignored Pietro and Blob's comments. Neither seemed too happy about this meeting. However, Wanda didn't appear enraged like she usually was when she called for a private meeting. Logan still assumed it involved something that could get really bad really fast.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice. You know I wouldn't invite you unless I was _completely _out of options," said Wanda.

"Nice to see you too, _your highness_," said Logan dryly, "So what's this about? If you ain't yelling at me yet, I'm guessing you've got a hell of a problem."

"Indeed we do, although I'm not sure how bad it is at this point," she said, "It involved one of our acolytes, Scanner. She was assaulted early this morning."

"Assaulted how? We talking about a spat over the latest shipment of Swiss chocolate or something worse?" said Logan.

"I honestly couldn't tell you. Blob found her lying unconscious outside a restaurant. She didn't have any marks on her, but she was clearly _hit_ by something."

"I ain't saying she wasn't, but people get hit every day. What makes this Scanner girl so special? She got something that makes her an easy target?"

"For one, she's a vital part of our team. Her powers allow her to scan for and detect mutants through their unique psionic signature. We need her to keep track of all the mutants on our island and others beyond our borders. That's why we've had our resident healer, Elixir, treat her. But as you can see, the results have been mixed so far."

Wanda led the feral mutant to the table where Elixir, Blob, and Pietro were watching over the young mutant. While Elixir was trying to heal her, Scanner lay completely still and looked very pale. Whatever Elixir was doing, it didn't seem to be working.

This mutant, Scanner, certainly looked like she had been on the wrong end of a fight. She appeared weak and the clothes she was wearing were a bit tattered. It reminded him somewhat of how he looked when he had been on the receiving end of Cyclops's optic blasts. However, that wasn't the most telling clue.

"Something doesn't smell right," he said as he whiffed the air around her.

"You gonna tell me what I ate for lunch again or something?" scoffed Blob.

"I ain't got that kind of time, lard-ass," said Logan as he turned to Elixir, "Bronze boy, you say you've been healing her?"

"Uh…yeah, as best I can," he said, sounding nervous in the face of an X-man.

"I take it you got some powers that help you heal most folks from bumps, bruises, and that sort of thing. So if someone comes to you with a shaving cut, you can make go away quicker than any overpriced aftershave, right?"

"I like to think my powers are better than that, but yeah. That's what I do," he said.

"So pretend for a sec you're a doctor and not some kid who lost a fight with a tanning bed. In your professional opinion, is her body fully healed?"

Elixir hesitated briefly. This was Wolverine he was talking to. His exploits were as legendary as his temper. Answering incorrectly was foolish at best, but not as foolish as lying. So with this in mind, he answered as honestly as possible.

"In terms of pure physiology…yeah, her body is the picture of health," he answered.

"That's all I need to know from you. And assuming you ain't full of shit, that means it ain't just her body that got attacked," said Logan as he turned back towards Scanner.

"What do you mean? Are you saying someone attacked her mind?" asked Wanda intently.

"We have a psychic who can deal with that sort of crap. Quentin Quere is a douche-bag, but he would notice and make a big deal of it," said Blob.

"It ain't her mind that got hit," said the feral mutant, "More like her spirit."

"Spirit?" scoffed Pietro, "Are you a Jedi now or something? What could possibly attack her _spirit_?"

"Not what…_who_," he snarled.

Ignoring the speedster's skepticism, Logan leaned in to capture more scents. Whatever still lingered was limited at best. However, some scents lingered more than others. One of them was this cold, nauseating musk that hung over her. It smelled like a mix of fire, brimstone, and death. It was very distinct and evoked a deep anger in him, as if his nose remembered it even though his brain did not.

He kept following the scents intently. As he did, Scanner finally emerged from her unconscious state. She was still clearly very weak. However, some strength had returned to her and she let out a faint gasp.

"The Black…Queen."

Logan didn't need to sniff anymore. Those words told him everything he needed to know. Now he knew who was behind this and it could only mean trouble.

"Black Queen? What the hell does that mean?" said Pietro.

"That like an evil version of Dairy Queen?" said Blob.

"Do you have to relate _everything_ to food?" said the speedster dryly.

Ignoring her brother's remarks, Wanda took this more seriously.

"Do you know what that means, Logan?" she asked him, "If there's someone running around my island attacking spirits, I need to know about it."

"It's worse than that. This shit just got a lot bigger than your damned island," snarled the feral mutant.

"What do you mean? Who is the Black Queen?"

Logan didn't have time to explain who the Black Queen was and why she was bad news. Whenever she made a move, nothing good came of it. There was no telling what kind of madness she was up to, but it likely involved something that needed stabbing.

"I need to call the X-men!" said Logan as he stormed out of the throne room.

"You're not seriously running off without giving us any answers, are you?" said an annoyed Wanda Maximoff.

"Watch me!"

* * *

**Xavier Institute – Outside Classroom**

'_Remy can't take this shit! I can steal anything from anybody, but Remy can't steal himself a decent night sleep.'_

The Cajun mutant let out another yawn. It was his fifth of the past hour. To say he wasn't fully alert would have been an insult to insomniacs everywhere. He hadn't slept for more than a few hours in the past week. He still went to class, trained in the Danger Room, and participated in all the usual X-men related activities. But when the time came to rest he could not settle his mind.

His breakup with Betsy was behind him. They were finally getting used to being friends and not lovers. But she seemed to be sleeping fine while he kept wrestling with the finer details of his situation.

He hated philosophical dead ends. The issues involving him, Betsy, and Rogue kept swirling around in his mind with no possible resolution. He kept trying to make sense of it, but he kept failing at every turn. With sleep already in short supply with the X-men, he wasn't doing himself any favors.

'_Another day, another lecture. Hope this one is worth staying awake for.'_

Remy was running late when he approached the door to the classroom. He was about to enter when Professor Xavier approached him.

"Remy, may I have a word with you?" he asked.

The Cajun sighed and turned around, trying hard not to look too sleep deprived.

"Sure thing, Professor," Remy said, "Hope you didn't sense that last little musing of Remy's."

"I'll say I didn't and forget if I did," said Xavier, "Something's come up and it may require you to miss this lecture. It's not terribly serious, but it involves Rogue."

"Rogue? Is she okay?" he said, now more alert.

"Not as much as she needs to be," said the Professor warily, "She called me a while ago and was quite upset. Apparently, things have taken a turn for the worse with Amanda and Kurt by default."

"Remy thought that was already pretty bad. I don't see how it could get worse."

"Well it has. Dealing with Amanda's situation has had a serious effect on Kurt. He's been skipping his online classes lately and he hasn't been checking in like he usually does. Based on what Rogue told me, he's in a very distressed state and that distress has carried over to her."

This was disturbing news. Rogue was quite possibly the strongest person Remy had ever known. It took an awful lot to hurt her, both literally and figuratively. If it was as bad as it sounded, then it had to go beyond just dealing with Kurt and Amanda.

"Why you telling me this, Professor?" asked the Cajun.

"Because I want you to pay her a visit," he said, "Rogue needs someone by her side right now. I think that someone should be you."

"You sure about that? You know our _complicated_ history as well as anyone"

"I'm well aware of that history. I also know you care enough about her to work around it. She's in a vulnerable state, Remy. I want to help her as well and certainly plan to do so. Right now, I think it would be best if you offered her comfort in the meantime."

It was hardly an unreasonable task. Remy had comforted Rogue many times before. Even when so many issues had come between them, it didn't stop them from being close friends. Right now it sounded like she needed a friend and that was reason enough to set aside his current musing.

"Okay Professor," he said, "If that's the best treatment for Rogue, consider me the antidote. Guess that means I'll be missing this here lecture."

"I'll have Jean forward you the notes," said Xavier with a look of relief, "Thank you, Remy. I appreciate you doing this."

"Ain't no need for thanks, Professor. When it comes to Rogue, it don't take much convincing for this here Cajun."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that. And while you're there, please keep your communicator on at all times in case of an emergency."

"Why? You think Rogue being upset will require backup?" Remy joked.

"It's not Rogue that concerns me. From what she told me about Amanda, we may be poised for another one of her _episodes_."

* * *

**Sefton Home**

Rogue was usually a patient person when it came to family. She waited four years for Mystique when she ran off on her. One of the few constants that kept her going was the support of her adopted brother, Kurt. Now he was giving her almost as much frustration as Mystique. Even if siblings were supposed to frustrate one another, her patience only went so far.

"Kurt…don't give meh more reasons to yell at you. Ah'm holding back with every ounce of strength not to scream at the top of mah lungs," said an exasperated Rogue upon finishing her second cigarette of the day.

"I'm sorry, mien sister. I don't mean to upset you," said a very morose Kurt Wagner as he stared blankly at a cup of coffee.

"Ah'm sure you don't, but Ah ain't sure you're putting in the effort," she said, pushing the coffee towards him, "You ain't slept in _three days_. You've skipped every online class for the past week. Ah don't know if that's because Amanda banished you to the couch or if something else entirely is bugging the hell out of you. Either way, keeping it from your sister is really startin' to bug the hell out of me."

"It isn't like zhat, Rogue. I explained zhat already," said an increasingly anxious Kurt.

"Yeah, because Amanda having those nightmares again seems to be your excuse for _everything_," she said, rolling her eyes.

"It's _not_ an excuse."

"Is it, Kurt? You keep beating yourself up for things you ain't got no control over. Amanda's getting worse. Ah understand that," said Rogue in a somewhat calmer tone.

"I don't think you do. I don't think _anybody_ understands," he said grimly.

"Even if they don't, that ain't a good reason to shoulder _all_ the blame. Ah know you made Amanda a promise and all. She's got this whole dark destiny crap hangin' over her, but even she doesn't want you to keep kickin' yourself like this. Heck, that's the reason why she kept this stuff from you in the first place."

"Are you going to agree with Kitty now and say she was right in doing so?"

"Ah ain't gonna be that brutally honest, but Ah am gonna speak mah mind. You're mah brother, Kurt. Ah love you to death and Ah'm doing _everything_ Ah can to support you, but you're makin' this pretty damn hard on meh. If it were the other way around, you wouldn't be half as frustrated as meh. Ah know that because you got more faith than meh. Ah wanna have that faith too, but Ah…Ah can't."

Kurt didn't take his eyes off the steaming cup of coffee he had yet to touch. He couldn't bear to look in the desperate eyes of his adopted sister. It would only make him feel worse.

Rogue shook her head and groaned. Nothing she said was going to make a difference. It hadn't been easy since they moved in with the Seftons. There were plenty of streaks where he would be gloomy and depressed because of his inability to help his lover. None were quite as bad as this.

It all started with these nightmares that Amanda was having. These nightmares turned to more elaborate mystical manifestations, which in turn led to more strange tattoos on her body. Her mother and Shaman believed they were a sign of something. Rogue could care less what that sign entailed. All she cared about was how much this was hurting her brother. His usually undying faith seemed to be faltering. The two siblings remained in a heavy silence until Illyana Rasputin entered.

"Hey Kurt, Miss Sefton told me to…" began the young Russian only to stop in mid-sentence, "Um…am I interrupting something?"

"No Illyana, it's okay," said Kurt, "Vhat is it?"

"It's Amanda. She's finally resting so she's going to cast that spell with Shaman in a few minutes. She thought you might want to be there for it."

This news seemed to rouse Kurt more than any cup of coffee. He abruptly pulled away from his sister's concerned presence and rose up, trying hard not to look like someone who was horribly sleep deprived.

"Danke for telling me, Illyana," he said, "I better catch up vith zhem before zhey start."

"Right…because one spell has made all the difference before," muttered Rogue.

Kurt turned to Rogue with an only a mildly reassuring gesture. He wasn't making this easier for either of them, but he had a promise to keep. No amount of personal shortcomings were going to keep him from doing so.

"I'm sorry, Rogue. I'll let you yell at me more later. I may need it," he said.

"That ain't all you'll need," she replied, "Now go before Ah pin you to the floor."

Kurt paused briefly. This was not going to be resolved anytime soon. He had to take this one crisis at a time and Amanda came first.

Rogue didn't even watch as he ran off. She just kept staring at the cup of coffee she made for Kurt, which was probably going to go to waste. Now she was even more frustrated than before.

"I'm sorry you and your brother are fighting so much," said Illyana with a reassuring gesture.

"We ain't fighting, Illyana. We're just…" but Rogue's words trailed off.

"You're fighting. Believe me, I know the signs," said the Russian girl with a humored grin, "I have a brother too. I know how bad it feels."

"Really? Has Peter ever been this messed up over a girl who happens to be trapped by some crazy ancient curse?" said Rogue dryly.

"He's been involved with his share of bad people. Some have required me to yell at him on more than one occasion," she said.

"Then you of all people should know where Ah'm coming from. Heck, you've been learnin' this magic stuff for a while now. You know how crazy it is. Can you honestly tell meh that Kurt knows? Or is he just playing the ignorance-is-bliss card?"

"I'm still a beginner. I cannot begin to tell you what he does and does not know. I can only tell you that what's going on with Amanda is quite serious."

"Ah know. That's what _everybody_ says. It makes meh feel like such an ass for being so mad at Kurt."

"I wouldn't say it makes you an ass, as you say. It just makes you a concerned sister. And there's nothing wrong with that."

Illyana may have been younger, but she did have some experience with difficult family members. It was debatable if Piotr's friends in the Russian Mob were worse than the evil consuming Amanda. What wasn't debatable was who had it worse at the moment. For all her strength and resilience, Rogue still felt powerless. It seemed like only a matter of time before something else went horribly wrong.

* * *

**Amanda's Room**

"It should be me lying on that bed," mused Margali Sefton.

"Saying that the sixth time won't make any greater difference than the fifth, Margali," said Shaman in a stern tone, "Now are you ready or not?"

Margali held back her maternal urge to weep for her suffering daughter. She had shed so many tears for Amanda. Generations of Seftons had shed these same tears. She cursed herself for not being as strong as her grandmother. Amanda didn't deserve this. Nobody deserved this.

The lingering effects of Selene's ritual continued to plague her daughter. The tattoo-like symbols on her body remained a constant reminder that she had crossed a point no Sefton had crossed before. They knew the outcome, but not all the steps that led to it. She worked desperately with Shaman in hopes of finding a way to reverse this curse. They experienced plenty of mishaps along the way. The latest obstacle came in the form of nightmares and this ritual was supposed to confront them.

"Based on my research with Illyana, I've surmised that Amanda's nightmares are not a manifestation of her burden. It's far more likely that we're dealing with an outside force."

"You mean someone is trying to _attack_ Amanda? How is that possible? I've put up every mystic shield I know around this house."

"I never said it was an attack. It's far more likely that someone is tapping a unique form of mystical energy and Amanda is picking up on it," Shaman elaborated, "Think of it as a radio being bombarded by a variety of scrambled signals. It stands to reason that her nightmares are the _static_ of this interference."

"I'd say it's more than static. She's been giving off some disturbing energy bursts in her sleep the past few nights. I don't know how much more her bedroom can take."

"Which is why we need to complete this ritual now and not later," said Shaman, "We cannot risk exacerbating Amanda's condition. Our best bet is to trace the source and confront it."

"No need to add more incentive, Shaman. You know I'm always ready to take the necessary steps for my daughter."

Margali caressed her daughter's tired face one last time. Amanda looked so dazed, stuck in a state between sleep and consciousness. It was the calmest state they could put her in. It was not the most comfortable of positions, which gave them all the more reason to succeed.

The ritual was finally ready. Shaman had several books set up on a few tables nearby to provide the necessary instructions. They had a fairly elaborate setup. They converted the guest room where Shaman had been sleeping into a ritual room. A small single bed was now in the center with an array of candles and mystical artifacts. Some were a few precious stones and incense that Margali had on hand. There were also some Native American artifacts that Shaman had provided. These materials were supposed to work in conjunction to complete this spell. As two experienced mystics prepared to begin, Kurt came rushing through the door.

"I'm here! Has it started yet?" he said breathlessly.

"No, but we were just about to," said Margali, "Amanda isn't fully awake though. You may not be able to wish her luck."

"It's okay. She knows I'm here," said Kurt confidently.

As soon as his voice filled the room, Amanda shifted slightly. Her head turned a bit and she could see Kurt standing behind her mother. Even though she was clearly dazed, she managed a very faint smile.

"It would seem she does," said Shaman, "But for this ritual, she needs to stay in a trance."

"I understand," said Kurt, offering a reassuring nod to his lover, "Please just make her better again."

"We will. We better or none of us will be getting any sleep from now on," said Margali.

Kurt reluctantly stepped back to give Shaman and Margali room to work. He had seen plenty of mystical rituals growing up with his father in the Azazel. He knew it was not wise to get too close. He kept his eyes on Amanda and silently prayed for her.

'_Be safe, liebe. Please…I need you to stop suffering.'_

Margali and Shaman got into position. Margali stood over her daughter while Shaman stayed back. The first few moments were spent getting into a focused state of mind, which was vital for any mystical incantation. When they were ready, Margali placed her hands over her daughter's body and closed her eyes. Within seconds, an aura of yellow energy formed around her palms. This energy soon consumed Amanda and bathed her in a gentle light.

Shaman took over from there. He held up one of the relics he brought from his home, which was a special staff with some bird feathers and precious stones on the tip. With it, he read over the specified texts.

"Begin the incantation," ordered Shaman."

"Make it quick!" said Margali sternly, "Our window here is closing fast."

The Native American mutant began chanting in an ancient tongue, invoking forces from the various realms of beyond. After the first few words, the air grew thicker and hotter. A brilliant swirl of light extended from Margali's hands and into her daughter. Amanda remained completely still, not showing any signs of discomfort.

Before long, the ritual was in full swing. Shaman read over lines after line of the incantation, chanting with a booming voice in a language only those versed in the mystic arts understood. The candles throughout the room flickered and a few of the relics mounted on the wall started to pulsate. It seemed to be going smoothly. Kurt kept watching and praying, hoping that whatever forces involved were augmented by his faith.

"I…I feel something," said Margali as the lights continued to swirl.

"Vhat is it? Is Amanda okay?" asked Kurt anxiously.

"She's fine. But I think you were right, Shaman. There is some strange mystical interference she's picking up on. The source seems to be coming from a fixed point in the mystical aether. I should be able to filter it out and…"

Suddenly, the ambience of the ritual was shattered. A powerful burst of light erupted from Amanda's body. It was so powerful it shattered Margali's focus and forced Kurt to cover his eyes. Shaman had to stop his chanting as well. His books were literally blown off the table by the burst and he had to back away from the blinding light.

"No!" he exclaimed, "Not this…not now!" he exclaimed.

"Vhat is it? Vhat's happening to Amanda?!" yelled Kurt.

"Don't tell me we messed up the spell!" cried Margali.

"We didn't," said Shaman grimly, "Someone else messed it up for us."

Kurt and Margali could only watch with horror as the scene before them unfolded. The yellow light surrounding Amanda had now turned red. An intense mystical aura surrounded her, erupting in chaotic bolts that destroyed the candles and burned holes in the wall. Within this chaos Amanda's prone body rose up, her eyes now wide open and glowing in a brilliant red hue.

"Mien Gott…Amanda," gasped Kurt.

"_Nova Roma…Mount Anton…the fire,"_ she cried, _"We're all…going to…burn!"_

* * *

**Xavier Institute – War Room**

The lecture from Professor Xavier was short lived. It had to end early and not for a pop quiz either. Logan made an emergency call from Genosha on a secure line that found its way to the Professor. Since he began his new role on the island, he gave the X-men regular reports. It was only when he found something really disturbing that he made a call like this.

Everybody who could be there was present. Professor Xavier stood around the holographic projector with Scott, Jean, Bobby, Ororo, Kitty, Betsy, and Piotr. They were waiting for the encrypted transmission to begin, never certain of what to expect from Genosha.

"Shouldn't we wait for, Hank? You said he was still here, Professor," said Ororo.

"That's what I thought. Unfortunately, that was half an hour ago. It appears he's gone off on a mission of his own," said Professor Xavier.

"He's been locked in his lab for days now. What the hell has he been working on?" asked Scott.

"Good luck getting _that_ information out of him," said Jean, "I've been the one reminding him of all the lessons he's been missing. He keeps telling me he's busy with an experiment and he'll make it up to us."

"By busy I'm assuming he forgot to add _with his girlfriend_ to the end," said Kitty.

"If his thoughts were any hint, I'd say that's a fair assumption."

"You make it sound like something we should worry about, Jean," said Piotr.

"A guy is spending extra time with his girlfriend. I'd say that's always reason to worry," said Betsy cynically.

"Could we _please_ not talk about girlfriends right now?" groaned Bobby, who didn't need reminders of his own romantic troubles, "I'd rather focus on our next round with impending doom."

There was plenty of speculation to go around. Hank's extracurricular activities had been a source of conflict before, especially when it came to his personal life. However, that issue would have to wait. The holographic computer alerted them that the transmission was coming in. Professor Xavier entered a few commands to bring up a messy holographic image.

"_Hello? The fuck is with this thing? Is it working? Who does tech support in this dump?"_

"Easy with the anti-technology rant, Logan. We can hear you," said Scott, who was helping the Professor clear up the image.

"_What? Damn this piece shit! I can barely see anything." _

"That's because the line is secure, Logan. You requested as such, remember?" reminded the Professor, "You said this was important enough to keep away from prying ears. Don't wait for the image to clear up. Just tell us what you found."

The holographic image remained fuzzy. Logan did his best to clear it up on his end. After a few adjustments the team could make out his holographic form on the computer. He looked more frustrated than usual and the secure line wasn't helping.

"_To hell with this. I'll just come out and say it. I picked up a scent on Genosha this morning. It wasn't a pleasant one either. Turns out our favorite bondage queen, Selene, paid a visit to the island recently."_

"Selene?!" exclaimed Jean, the Phoenix inside her flaring at that name, "Are you sure?"

"_Trust me, Jeannie. You don't forget a scent like hers."_

"Do I even want to know who we're talking about here?" said Betsy, who was lucky enough to have not dealt with this woman.

"Think psycho bitch mixed with evil Voldemort style sorcery. That's Selene," Kitty summarized.

"I do not read Lord of the Rings, but I will assume that is bad," said Piotr.

It was such a disturbing revelation that nobody bothered to correct Piotr on his knowledge of the fantasy genre. The last time the X-men clashed with Selene, she got the better of them. At a time when they were dealing with many non-mystical matters, Selene was the last problem they needed.

"What exactly did you find? Do you know if she's still on the island?" asked Professor Xavier.

"_No, but I doubt it. That bitch would never leave a scent and not bolt the second she got what she wanted."_

"How do you know she got what she was looking for?" inquired Bobby.

"_I don't. Call it a gut feeling with a touch of common sense. She didn't make a spectacle. She just attacked one of Wanda's cronies. Some girl named Scanner."_

"What kind of attack? Selene has been known to mix it up," said Scott.

"_She practically drained the life out of her, but I ain't sure that's all she drained. This girl had some mutant power that allowed her to track other mutants. I don't know what the hell the physics are behind that shit. I ain't Hank. Where the hell is he anyways?"_

"He's MIA for the moment. Let's stay focused here," said Jean intently, "Did you find anything else?"

"_Beyond some pissed off bitching from Wanda, not much. Now tell me we're not gonna sit on this. We gotta nip Selene in that thong-loving ass of hers before she makes her next move!"_

Everybody turned to Professor Xavier. He was as disturbed by this news as Jean. Selene was not a threat to take lightly. She had to have known that this attack was going to get her noticed. That indicated that she was uncomfortably close to succeeded in her next endeavor.

"The timing of this development can't be mere happenstance," he mused, "Earlier today I received a call from Rogue. She said things with the Seftons have taken a turn for the worse."

"If memory serves me right, Selene was quite obsessed with Amanda and the power she possesses," said Ororo.

"Could that be it? Is she preparing to attack her again?" wondered Kitty.

"It makes sense," surmised Scott, "Perhaps this recent activity is a sign of some sort. I think it's also worth remembering that Amanda has kept secrets from Kurt before. This could be another one."

"Illyana is with them too. She could be in danger as well!" lamented Piotr, "We must do something."

"We will, Peter," said the Professor, "But we must be careful. Something about this doesn't feel right."

"It's Selene. When did it ever feel right?" commented Bobby.

"My primary concern is that we could be walking into a situation we don't fully understand. Against someone like Selene, that's always dangerous."

No one doubted for a second that this woman was capable of unspeakable destruction. Selene was a wild card. First she was the Black Queen of the Inner Circle. Then she was the Sefton's greatest enemy. Somewhere along the way, she made friends with Madelyn Pryor and Sinister by default. By any measure, she got around in all the wrong ways.

"Since I've never faced this psycho bitch, perhaps I should be the one to give an objective assessment," said Betsy.

"Don't know how much good that will do, but if you have any ideas _please_ share them," said Kitty.

"Even if we don't know what she's up to, it's a pretty safe bet that when she makes her move it'll be painfully obvious."

"That seems like a pretty fair assessment," said Ororo.

"Yeah, Selene never was one for subtlety," added Scott.

"So like any master criminal, she'll keep her eyes on her primary goal. And if her goal is Amanda Sefton, then chances are she'll be the one most affected. One of the first lessons I learned from Interpol was that if you want to catch sadistic criminals, you have to be where they are when they step out of from the shadows."

"So what are you saying? We should just pay a visit to the Seftons and wait for Selene to pounce?" said Bobby.

"I think we all could have come up with that strategy, Betsy," said Kitty dryly.

"I'm not saying some of us should pay Amanda a visit. I'm saying we should _all_ pay her a visit," Betsy clarified, "Let's just assume something bad will happen and be there to take care of it in full force. That way we aren't left waiting for backup to arrive."

It seemed like an overreaction. Then again, it really wasn't possible to overreact when it came to the Black Queen. The last time they faced her, they weren't in full force and Selene got the better of them. They couldn't let that happen again.

"I've never had anything against overkill so I'm all for this plan," said Scott, "I say we go all out now and not wait."

"I second that. I want to be ready to go full Phoenix Force on her when she shows up!" said Jean strongly.

"While I have some reservations about diverting all our attention to a single threat, I feel this may be necessary," said Professor Xavier, "I'll send a message to Hank. One of us needs to be on standby should something come up with the MSA. I already sent Remy over to the Seftons as well so we can find out beforehand if anything is amiss."

"Great, so I guess that means class is canceled for the rest of the day," said Kitty.

"As opposed to clashing with Selene? I still prefer class," groaned Bobby.

The plan seemed settled. They were going to confront Selene and throw everything they had at her. Over the holographic projector, Logan picked up on this plan as well.

"_You guys are still assuming you ain't already too late. And if you expect me to stay on this dump while Selene is stirring up trouble, you're crazier than she is."_

"I don't intend to keep you on Genosha, Logan," said the Professor, "Go ahead and get on the first transport you can find. You can catch up with us at the Seftons. Hopefully you're wrong about us being too late."

"_I sure as hell wanna be. But if you do meet up with Queen Psycho Bitch, try and save some for me."_

"No promises, Logan. We'll call you when we're in position," said Scott.

Professor Xavier closed the secure line and the X-men rushed out of the War Room to suit up. All the real-world issues concerning mutant affairs would have to take a backseat for now. If Selene was allowed to succeed in any capacity, then the political intricacies of human/mutant affairs would be the least of their worries.

* * *

**Outside Sefton Home**

'_Remy's gotta find a way to make this easier on himself.'_

So many conflicting thoughts bombarded Remy Lebeau as he arrived at the Sefton home. He took the long route in order to give himself some extra time to think. He scripted in his head everything he was going to say to Rogue. They hadn't talked seriously since the Vertigo incident. After what happened with Betsy, they weren't in a position to say much. That had to change if Rogue was as upset as the Professor suspected.

Upon pulling into the Sefton's driveway on his motorcycle, he paused for a few minutes to prepare himself. He had to set aside the charm and be serious with this woman. He took off his helmet and prepared to approach the front door. That's when the special X-men communicator on his belt went off.

"Someone better be invading the mansion," he groaned as he picked it up.

Remy got off his bike and adjusted his trench coat as he answered the call.

"Oui, this is Gambit. You best have a dang good reason why you be calling," said the Cajun.

"_Remy! This is Cyclops. Are you at the Sefton's house?"_

"Yeah, Remy just got here. Why?"

"_Does anything seem wrong? Is there any sign of an attack?"_

"An attack? Naw, it looks as peaceful as a sleeping croc. Why? Is something…"

Remy was then cut off by the sound of a horrifying screeching noise. It came from the backyard. Remy almost dropped the communicator as he walked up closer to the house to see what was going on. He didn't even get halfway when he saw a burst of light erupt from inside the house that was so strong it blew out all the windows.

"_Remy? What the hell was that?!"_

"Uh…Remy's gotta go. Later!"

The Cajun put away the communicator and took out his bow staff. It didn't look like he would have to recite that speech he rehearsed for Rogue after all. He had much bigger concerns now.

Running full speed, Remy scaled the fence leading into the back yard. When he landed, he saw that a massive hole had been blown in the wall of the house and lying within the wreckage were Kurt, Margali, and Shaman. The three of them looked like they had gone one too many rounds in a boxing ring. They were dazed and bruised, but still conscious. Remy traced their battered state and the wreckage back to the house where the source of pulsing light was revealed.

"Aw hell," groaned the Cajun, "This is gonna wake the neighbors."

"_Too…much. It's too…much," _cried a desperate Amanda Sefton.

A bolt of yellow energy shot out which Remy narrowly avoided by ducking to the side. The source of the attack Cyclops spoke of soon emerged from the chaos. It was Amanda and she was clearly not in a stable state of mind. She was hovering in midair, floating out from the hole in the wall and giving off all these powerful energy bursts. She looked like she was sleepwalking. She was also packing some serious mystical power that Remy was not equipped to deal with.

"Gambit?" groaned Kurt as he pulled himself up.

"Hey there, Kurt. Nice to see you too," said Remy anxiously as he narrowly avoided another mystical burst, "Does Remy wanna know what the heck is goin' on here?"

"Some…some kind of mystical interference is destabilizing her power!" cried Margali Sefton.

"Thanks for clearing that up," groaned the Cajun, "There be a spell to stop her?"

"That…we haven't ascertained," said a dazed Shaman, who was just recovering as well.

"Figures," he said with growing frustration.

Amanda drifted out into the backyard, unleashing more mystic bolts in the process. Each bolt incurred more destruction, breaking a few windows and shattering parts of the fence. As she drew closer to Kurt, Shaman, and Margali they instinctively pulled away. Kurt reached for Margali and teleported her to a safe distance while Remy rushed in and pulled Shaman away. But Amanda kept coming, showing no signs of letting up.

"Amanda! You have to fight zhis. Please…Vake up!" Kurt yelled out.

"_Too much! Still too much!"_

"The hell does she mean by that?" grunted Remy as he and Shaman narrowly avoided being hit by another bolt.

"I wish I could tell you. All I know is some mystic interference is hurting my daughter!" lamented Margali.

"Well can you at least slow her down? You folk are supposed to be good at this magic mojo!"

Remy dragged Shaman back towards Kurt and Margali. They braced themselves for more stray bolts as Amanda drew near. She now hovered right in the middle of the back yard now. The yellow light surrounding her body pulsated more erratically, causing more damage to the house. She seemed utterly powerless to stop herself. Then an urgent voice from back inside the house rang out.

"Enough with the temper tantrum, Amanda. Time for a nap!" said Rogue as she removed her gloves.

"Rogue wait!" exclaimed Margali.

Her warning was completely ignored as Rogue took through the air and flew through Amanda's glowing aura. Her invulnerable form allowed her to endure the punishment and get within inches of the hovering girl. This gave Rogue chance to get close enough to touch her, which would drain her and end this madness.

"Illyana, get everybody outta here!" she called out, "I'll put Amanda under for a bit!"

"Better hurry up, Rogue. It looks like she needs it more than we do!" yelled Illyana, who emerged from the house.

The young Russian girl braved more mystical bursts and rushed towards Shaman, Kurt, Margali, and Remy. Rogue's attack seemed to direct the onslaught towards her, giving her the room she needed. However, before Illyana could reach the others, Amanda's mysterious outburst took another grim turn.

"_Too…much!" _Amanda said again with more pain in her tone.

Rogue was within inches of touching her bare face. When she sensed this, the mysterious energy surrounding her body turned from yellow to dark red. It looked like she was surrounded by fire. The bolts became more powerful and completely focused themselves on Rogue. This time they hit with such force that her invulnerability and strength were not enough to protect her.

"Ahhhhhh!" Rogue cried out as she was sent flying.

"Rogue!" exclaimed Remy.

Braving the dangerous bolts, the Cajun rushed towards her aid. He narrowly avoided being blown back several times, using his agility to reach Rogue.

"Hang on, cherè!" he yelled.

"Remy, look out!" exclaimed Kurt.

He was so close he didn't notice a particularly large burst erupt from Amanda. It arced out from her body and struck the area between where Rogue was and where Remy was trying to get to. It didn't hit the Cajun directly, but it did hit with enough impact that it stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Ungh!" he grunted as he fell to the ground.

"Hnn…Remy," groaned a dazed Rogue.

The Cajun was nearly knocked out. Rogue, who was still reeling from the blast she took earlier, had to play the rescue role now. Her vision was still blurry and her body was aching. But when she saw Remy lying so vulnerable in the midst of so much chaos, she pushed through the pain and reached out to get him.

"Dumb Cajun…trying to save meh like that," she groaned, "You ain't the one with the durable body. Now Ah gotta save _you_."

Ignoring the irony, Rogue got to the wounded Remy and pulled him away from the chaos. Once he was in her arms, she carried him away from Amanda and the crumbling house. She used her invulnerable form as a shield, allowing her to put some distance between them and Amanda. She took a few light shots along the way, but endured each one of them. That was all she could do for her sake and for Remy's.

Now Amanda wasn't moving forward anymore. She was just hovering, the energy around her becoming more volatile. By the time Rogue and Remy escaped to a safe distance, the power had consumed most of the back yard. The entire back part of the house was in ruin and at the rate she was going the neighboring houses would be in trouble as well.

"_Can't…hold on…much…longer," _cried Amanda.

"Vhat does she mean by zhat?" exclaimed Kurt.

"I hate having to say this, but I have no idea," said Shaman grimly.

"What do you mean? Is this going to _kill_ my daughter or what?!" yelled Margali.

"I doubt it. But I suspect the outcome would be _far_ worse than death."

Shaman was rarely one to mince words. He wasn't one to exaggerate either. For Kurt and Margali, it was a daunting prospect. Looking up at Amanda, they saw that she was still clearly in agony. Everything they tried to do for her only made her burden worse. There seemed to be no end to it.

With Kurt and Margali at their emotional limits, Illyana stepped up. She cared about Amanda too, but was not letting emotions paralyze her efforts. This was a mystical problem and it required a mystical solution. She was still a novice in her studies of magic. That didn't mean she was powerless though.

"If none of you are going to do anything to stop her, then I guess I'll have to give it a go," said the Russian girl.

"No Illyana! You're not ready for this," said Margali.

"My big brother always stepped up when no one else would. It's time I put what I have learned to good use," she said strongly, "This energy is overwhelming her, yes? So if it is too much, why not try and drain if off?"

"You make it sound easy. Do you care at all about what zhat vill do to Amanda?" exclaimed Kurt.

He looked ready to pull Illyana back from doing whatever it was she was planning to do, but Shaman stopped him.

"Wait!" he said, "Illyana may be right. Draining off the energy may help Amanda reassert control. Or at the very least, it will weaken her to a point where Rogue can touch her."

"But how?" said Margali, who wasn't too enthused about the plan either, "A spell like that is too complicated, especially for a child."

"Who says we need a spell?" said Shaman cryptically, "Illyana doesn't need to drain it through mystical means. She could just as easily use her teleportation powers to siphon off the energy. If she can focus enough to open a gateway to the mystic realm, it should draw the energy into it."

"Is zhat even possible?" said Kurt skeptically.

"The realm she passes through when she teleports is thick with mystical energy. In theory the energy should be drawn right to it."

"That is all I am needing to hear," said Illyana strongly.

Without any further warnings or instructions, the Russian girl stepped out to face this onslaught of mystical energy. Shaman, Margali, and Kurt were not in a position to thwart her. She had been refining her skills for months now. This was her first real test.

Powerful bolts struck dangerously close to her feet as Illyana prepared herself. Amanda looked to be nearing her limits. The reddish energy surrounding her intensified. Her face and body were contorting to the growing strain. The Russian girl did her best to stay focused. Between deep calming breaths, she channeled her power.

'_Piotr is not here to save me this time. I have to be strong on my own for once. I will make him proud.'_

Her hands started glowing as she summoned the power within her. She hadn't used her abilities like this before so she had to improvise. Rather than allow the energy to consume her, she focused it into a small area right in front of her. In this area a bright yellow ball of energy formed and from that ball, a gateway formed. Shaman told her it was because she traveled to this realm in particular that she had such vast mystical potential. She was still learning about just what this realm was. Whatever it was, she made it work for her.

As soon as the gateway was formed, the mysterious red energy started that surrounded Amanda was drawn to it like a magnet. The once chaotic bolts were now being drawn into the gate. This finally stopped the surrounding aura from growing and brought some badly needed relief for Amanda.

"_Hnn…so tired," _she groaned.

"It's working!" exclaimed Margali, "Keep going, Illyana."

"How long vill she have to do zhis?" asked Kurt.

"As long as it takes," said Shaman strongly.

It wasn't clear how long that implied. Now Illyana was the one feeling the strain, having to keep the gate to the realm open. It was a test of endurance, especially for someone of her youth and inexperience. She kept going though, trying to be as strong as her brother taught her to be.

It was painfully gradual, diminishing in ways that didn't seem noticeable at times. But it was clearly working. Amanda stopped contorting in agony and the once destructive mystic bolts had weakened to less menacing proportions. Eventually, Amanda started drifting lower to the ground. She seemed on the verge of passing out. Illyana was close as well.

"Can't…keep…going…like this!" grunted Illyana.

The Russian girl appeared to be faltering. This did not go unnoticed by Rogue and Remy. Now that the chaotic energy bursts had receded, Rogue didn't have to keep shielding Remy with her body.

"Aww…you ain't gonna cover Remy with that nice body of yours anymore?" said the Cajun in a groggy tone.

"Now seriously ain't the time, Remy," said Rogue as she set her sights on Amanda again, "Hold it steady, Yana! Ah think Ah can get to her now!"

"No! I can do this," yelled Illyana unexpectedly.

"Sugah, don't be all macho like your brother. You ain't got the muscles for it yet."

"Don't!" she cried out, "Feeling…something strange. Don't touch her. It could…"

That was all Illyana could get out. With the energy from Amanda still draining into her portal, there was a strange shift. The reddish aura changed color again, shifting back to the yellowish hue it had been earlier. It was now the same hue as the portal itself and triggered a strange reaction with Illyana. Now she was the one surrounded by the energy. It wasn't as chaotic as Amanda, but it had the same ominous glow. Rogue was still prepared to rush in and knock Amanda out with her touch. Then it all ended.

"I…feel…ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" Amanda cried out.

It happened in the blink of an eye. The portal in front of her erupted in a bright burst of white light. It was so bright it forced Rogue, Remy, Margali, and Shaman to shield their eyes. The moment it faded, the light from Amanda and Illyana faded as well. Illyana's eyes were now glowing, but Amanda's tumultuous outburst was over.

"Hnn…" groaned Amanda before passing out.

"Amanda!" Kurt cried out.

Without thinking about what just happened, he teleported over towards his lover and caught her before she hit the ground. She was now completely unconscious. It wasn't the deep sleep kind of unconscious either. Her body felt cold in his arms and she was barely breathing.

"Amanda…please don't do zhis to me. Please be alrightc" he said desperately.

Margali came running over. She had a very sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something did not seem right. This horrible affair didn't seem over just yet.

"No…not this. My sweet little treasure," she said with tears in her eyes.

"Vhat's wrong vith her now?" Kurt exclaimed.

"She…she was right. It _was_ too much for her," said Margali, "She's alive, but her spirit is wounded."

"Wounded how?"

"Think of it as a mystical coma," she said through a strained voice, "One so deep that the line between life and death is practically non-existent. My darling girl…we were too late."

Kurt was at a loss for words. Despite his faith in her and in their love, everything was getting worse. All the secrets that Amanda had kept from him had hurt her in the worst possible way and there was nothing he could do about it. His father taught him a lot about faith. He never taught him how to cope when faith wasn't enough.

Kurt and Margali were in tears, weeping over Amanda's condition. They barely noticed Rogue and Remy staggering over towards them. They were both still woozy from the blows they took earlier. Remy was still leaning on Rogue for support. The severity of their injuries was quickly forgotten when they took in everything that was happening.

"Dang Kurt, Ah…Ah don't know what to say," said Rogue, sounding almost desperate in her voice.

"Zhere's nothing to say, mien sister. Zhis vasn't your fault," said Kurt in a low tone.

"Ah ain't saying it's anybody's fault. Ah just…Ah've seen that look before. Low spirits…no hope…pain in ways words ain't ever gonna describe. Ah've just never seen it on you."

"Zhe love of my life is in a coma. Ah zhink I have a right to zhis look right now."

"No Kurt…don't," said Rogue, sounding desperate as well, "You're supposed to be the one with the strong spirit. Don't put meh in that position."

Kurt didn't even look up at his sister's desperate eyes. That terrible look that Rogue hated so much lingered as he remained locked on Amanda's unmoving body. It put Rogue in a position she never wanted to be in. She was supposed to be the one who was bitter about everything. Kurt was supposed to be the one with the undying faith. Now for the first time in all the years she had known him, she saw that faith falter.

Remy stayed silent. Now Rogue was leaning on him more than he was leaning on her. He came to visit her in hopes of helping her feel better. He only arrived in time to see everything take a turn for the worse. If this were a card game, they would have just been dealt the worst possible hand.

"It'll be okay, cherè," he told her softly, "You got more spirit than you think."

"Don't talk, Cajun. Just…hold meh,"

Remy did as she asked, allowing her to slip into his arms for a gentle embrace. It was a bittersweet gesture, devoid of any answers or solutions to the problem they now faced.

While a harsh new reality set in for Amanda, Shaman's focus was on Illyana. She was on her knees, her eyes still radiating with the strange mystical energy she had used to stop Amanda's outburst. Shaman was careful when he approached her, sensing this crisis might not be over just yet.

"Illyana? Are you alright?" he asked her, "You know you can stop now."

"I…I'm trying," she said in a dazed tone, "Can't move…can't focus. Something feels…wrong."

Shaman tensed upon hearing her tone. Something felt wrong and it wasn't just Amanda's turn for the worse. The very air around them felt out of place in the presence of this mystical outburst. Before he could investigate any further, both he and Illyana got their answers.

From the now decimated house, two shady figures emerged. Their presence quickly drew the attention of the others, but it drew Illyana's the most.

"Very nicely done," said Selene, clapping in amusement at the sight before her, "I love what you've done with the place, Margali."

"Agreed, Mistress," said her apprentice, Madelyn Pryor, "It fits her family so well…wrecked, incompetent, and defeated."

As they approached, Margali tensed with anger. Her family's suffering could always seem to be traced back to Selene and the Goblin Queen lineage. Fueled by sorrow, she rose up with Kurt, Rogue, and Remy to confront this devious woman.

"SELENE!" seethed Margali.

"_You_ were behind this. I should've known," yelled Kurt, still holding Amanda protectively.

"Your flattery is as pathetic as your outrage," scoffed Selene, "Do you really think I have been silently working behind the scenes, making your precious child ill, and watching you suffer as a result?"

"Don't know. That sounds like the shit you do on the weekends," shot Rogue.

"You know when you put it like that, Mistress…you really don't make it seem too outrageous," joked Madelyn.

"True, but consider this…if I were behind it, don't you think I would have made it painfully obvious so as to worsen your suffering?" she added, "Plus, you're assuming I was able to get around all your meddlesome mystical shielding."

"So…you're saying you _didn't_ cause Amanda's nightmares?" said Margali incredulously.

"You knew my mother, Margali. She liked people to know when she was making them look foolish. I think you would agree that I am my mother's daughter, aren't I?"

Margali was still seething with hatred for this woman. However, she made a valid point though. It wasn't in her nature to remain hidden, especially when she was getting the best of her mystical barriers that were supposed to keep her out.

"You give me too much credit. You think I am the only one who causes your daughter to suffer," Selene scoffed, "She's a victim of her own destiny. You know that, Margali. Azazel sure didn't. That's why he found out the hard way."

"Mention my father again and I'll hurt you in vays zhe Phoenix never could," spat Kurt.

"Spare us the empty threats. We didn't come here to fight," said Madelyn, "We were just dropping by hoping to pick up something for our little trip. Since your precious little insomniac over there did such a good job disrupting your mystical shields, it saves us the trouble of excessive fighting."

"If you think I'll let you take my daughter away, then you have less brain mass than your mother's corpse!" yelled Margali.

"Let's not turn this into a childish game of parental insults," said Selene dryly, "I haven't come for Amanda…not yet anyways. Destiny will bring me to her eventually. In the meantime, there's another talented brat whose birthright I require."

Selene turned to her apprentice, who grinned with the same sinister leer as her mistress. Madelyn cast a quick spell. Margali, Kurt, Rogue, and Remy took a defensive position and prepared to fight back. That ended up being unnecessary. The attack came, but it wasn't aimed at them. It was aimed across the yard towards Illyana, who was still frozen in place. When it struck, a dark aura surrounded her.

Shaman picked up on this quickly. He had seen this trick before and knew full well what she was trying to do. Clenching his fists, he prepared to cast a spell of his own.

"The N'astirh gates! I would know that stench anywhere," he shouted, his fists now glowing brightly, "You'll need more than goblin hordes to rob me of my pupil."

"Be careful what you wish for, old man," grinned Selene.

Shaman was prepared to attack Madelyn, but not defend against Selene. The Black Queen cast a spell of her own, forming a dark ball of energy around her hand that shot out at high speeds and struck Shaman head on. It didn't knock him back or hit him with overwhelming force. Instead, it caused the ground around him to turn into quicksand, causing him to sink into it until he was up to his neck. It rendered him unable to protect his paralyzed pupil.

"No! Illyana!" he grunted as he struggled with his confinement.

"I feel it again. It's calling me. What is it?" said the Russian girl, her body going ridged.

"You'll find out soon enough, little one. Be sure to pack your sun screen. The tropics are so brutal to pale skin," taunted Madelyn.

The Russian girl stood still as a statue as a circular gate opened beneath her feet. Form this gate, several of Madelyn's goblin minions grabbed her. If she hadn't been so stiff, she would have screamed out in horror. As the goblins swarmed her, the strange glow in her eyes turned from yellow to dark purple. Once this darkness consumed her, the expression on her young face changed. The frozen horror turned into a deep trance, not unlike the one Amanda had been in earlier. Only this time, it was completely under Selene and Madelyn's control.

"I have her." said Madelyn, "We're ready, Mistress."

"That officially makes us ahead of schedule," Selene boasted, "In addition to Amanda being neutralized earlier than I suspected, I say this is a very productive day indeed. Now take us to Mount Anton. Our prize awaits us!"

With a single gesture, Madelyn's eyes flashed brightly once more and she, Madelyn, and Selene were consumed by a yellowish energy. Then with Shaman, Margali, Kurt, Rogue, and Remy watching in bewilderment, a blinding flash consumed the whole area. The moment it faded, Selene and Madelyn were gone and so was Illyana.

* * *

**Up next: Civilization No Longer Lost**


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